


Shall we Fight?

by ForestFish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boxing, Alternate Universe - MMA, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Bottom Erwin Smith, Bottom Levi Ackerman, Boxing, Danger Kink, Description of fighting scenes, Edgeplay, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feminism, Fighting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grappling, Guns, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Inspired by Art, Inspired by Fanart, Kinky Smut with Vintage Vibes, Knives, Light Masochism, M/M, MMA, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oh, Safe and consensual but not very sane, Top Erwin Smith, Top Levi Ackerman, Toxic Masculinity, Trust, and i have a tag for it, and now the smut tags, anyway, goddammit there are not tags for that??, jiu-jitsu, muay thai, mutual respect, there's also mentions of ptsd and overcoming trauma, they bond over that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 43,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFish/pseuds/ForestFish
Summary: "Erwin walked out of prison as all people who walk out of prison do. Like a caged animal that’s been released after a long time in captivity, lost and confused."Two times lineal heavyweight boxing champion, and three times heavyweight boxing champion Erwin Smith is framed for the murder of the mistress of the mayor and spends over a year in prison. Outside, Hange works hard to prove his innocence with the help of a fighter who neither knew but wanted Erwin to be free more than anyone else. When he's released, he has decided to retire from official fights, and turn into teaching others how to fight instead.
Relationships: (exes) Eren/Reiner, (implied) Reiner/Bert, (past) Erwin/Alma, Kenny Ackerman/Uri Reiss, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith, Moblit Berner/Hange Zoë
Comments: 71
Kudos: 324





	1. Contents

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, there. Starting with the mandatory, excuse any mistakes and typos. You're all familiar with fighting and you're all familiar with fake dating aus, so there's not much to say here. This is just long. It's all tagged. 
> 
> This fic is once again inspired by Columbo's art. This time it's their AU. At least when it comes to Eruri. I haven't seen anyone else post about it and if there are fics about it, I haven't read them. [Columbo's art, which came after the one that actually made me lose my mind and finally write a fighting fic](https://twitter.com/DoubleDumbo/status/1365978822177390594) and the first one [ the one that made me go for it](https://twitter.com/DoubleDumbo/status/1362849657215455233). I happen to be a fighting fan and boxing is my favourite because I'm a huge fan of Muhammad Ali. Seriously, if you have the chance, read about this legend and watch him fight. I've watched actual fights, too. My uncle is a fighting freak and learnt several styles over the years. Boxing, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Pankration, Capoeira, and Muay Thai. I learnt a bit from him, but not enough because he lives too far. It's life. I toned down the number of descriptive fighting scenes and tried to avoid jargon but I wanted these scenes in, for my own enjoyment. Also, a disclaimer: there's no deep meaning behind the fighters' choices (the ones that are characters in the show), I just wanted to have them in and they're also in the welterweight weight range. That's it.
> 
> If you know Ashita no Joe, Teppu!, Rocky, and YOI, you'll recognise the references. I wanted to incorporate women MMA in here because of Teppu (and because I'm a simp for ripped women), but I decided to just leave it hinted for later. This fic has a contents list because it's already written, I just won't be posting it all in one go. I started writing it on Sunday last week and finished it last Friday. Then I tried to edit and revise over the weekend. And if I keep thinking about it, I just won't post it. It's a bit of a mess, but it's broken down into sections with titles and I don't know, I had a lot of fun writing it. I just hope it's a bit fun to read, too. 
> 
> And if you haven't watched 'Shall we Dance?(1937)' aka the OG fake dating film, I strongly recommend that you do.
> 
> Anyway, if you give this one a go, I hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 1 – A new goal in the same heart**

I. If your fists are strong, your words are stronger

II. Saints of the underdogs and slivers of justice

III. The Captain who couldn’t be promoted yet

IV. The bitterness of fighting for revenge

**Chapter 2 – Hearts of fighters**

I. Milky tea and an elephant

II. Breathing

III. The clinch and what it felt like to him

**Chapter 3 – The Sweet Science**

I. Fighting doesn’t need important reasons, but sometimes they matter

II. The fighter brides

III. Fear of the faux devil

IV. The first fight and the beginning of the goddamn pictures’ hell

V. Their guardian angel and the almost seized up engine

**Chapter 4 – Shall we Dance? Or rather, _shall we fight_?**

I. Self-love and self-defence

II. The man with the tiny ego and an assault rifle

III. Will our romance end on a sorrowful note when you’re gone?

**Chapter 5 – Fighting two fights**

I. Deixis and more of those goddamn pictures

II. Submission out of the context of grappling is something else

III. The wonders of domesticity

IV. The Cadillac, the rollercoaster, and the severed head

V. Those memories and blooming trust

**Chapter 6 – Adrenaline**

I. The warmth of fluorescent lights

II. Tense men in tight designer pants

III. No regrets but one

IV. The assholes on the train who got taught a lesson and the prelim fights

V. A swollen eye, a kiss on the lips, and a shot of adrenaline

VI. Confessing feelings may be easy, but it’s hard to deal with them in the long run

**Chapter 7 – Going the distance**

I. A man worth waiting for

II. Kenny’s thread and yellow daffodils

III. The gamble of the hopeful

IV. What are you fighting for?

V. The thrill of fighting for fun

VI. The aftermath of victory on the warm hood of a 1965 Cadillac Deville

_Epilogue_


	2. A new goal in the same heart

* * *

**I. If your fists are strong, your words are stronger**

* * *

Erwin walked out of prison as all people who walk out of prison do. Like a caged animal that’s been released after a long time in captivity, lost and confused. He clutched the small bag with his belongings over his shoulders and looked at the clear blue sky of that sunny April day. The guards who escorted him liked him. They’d been fans. Many people hadn’t believed that Erwin had done it. But that’s how it was in this cruel, yet beautiful world. The strong beat the weak, and often, strength is nothing but a bank account with a lot of zeroes.

Hange was waiting for him by their car and when they saw each other, Erwin smiled and heard his old friend and lawyer shriek in glee and run to him, throwing themself onto his neck and giving him a tight squeeze.

Hange sniffed, adjusting their glasses after wiping their eyes. “Have you gotten bigger?” Hange asked and chortled, “I’m so happy you’re finally free,” they said, “damn, I promised I wouldn’t cry.”

Erwin smiled as they got away from one another. “Thank you,” he said to Hange, “it’s all thanks to you.”

“We’re going now,” one guard who’d escorted Erwin said, “hope to see you fighting again soon, Commander!” he said with a grin. Erwin snorted and waved.

He got in the car with Hange and put on his seatbelt, sighing. “It’s so strange to be free.”

Hange started the car and smiled, adjusting the rear-view mirror from where at least ten different, colourful scented trees hung. “I can’t imagine, but I see that you look kind of lost, big guy,” they said softly, “I got you some music. Check the glovebox.”

“Oh no,” Erwin said and chortled, picking up the burnt CD that read ‘MIXTAPE FOR THE FREE COMMANDER!’ in sharpie. He popped it in the car’s CD deck and sure enough, Survivor’s _Eye of the Tiger_ blasted from the speakers of Hange’s beat-up 1985 silver Mercedes Benz, “I knew it’d be this,” Erwin said and chuckled.

“If you don’t sing it for me, I’ll be very mad. This is all the pay I want for getting you out,” Hange said while the initial instrumental riff was still playing and they drove off, “come on!”, they incited, slamming their hand on the wheel and bobbing their head to the rhythm.

Erwin sighed deeply and then chuckled, clearing his throat before filling the car with his pleasant singing voice. _“Rising up, back on the street, did my time, took my chances. Went the distance, now I’m back on my feet. Just a man and his will to survi-i-i-i-ve.”_

Hange grinned and joined in with tears in their eyes, harmonising with him, both with their windows rolled down, the wind ruffling their hair. 

The following song was from an old show. It was called Midnight Blues, and it was in Japanese, but Erwin knew the lyrics by heart. He’d fallen in love with boxing because of that show, after all.

 _Hey, hey, hey, Blues…_ _As if junkie blues,_

_your shout shakes people's hearts._

_Crazy lazy blues for those wounded guys._

_Midnight blues._

_Let's tell them about it!_

The old car sped down the street with two people singing inside it in broken Japanese. Freedom sounded like that sometimes.

* * *

Erwin’s first meal as a free man was a shish kebab that Hange wouldn’t hear of him paying for. It was their treat, and that was his favourite. They took the food back to Hange’s Mercedes and ate there. They’d be meeting with their other friends later, Hange told him. Nile couldn’t wait to be mad at Erwin in person, and Mike just wanted to give him a big old hug and probably talk about cars.

“We’ve missed you,” Hange said, mouth full of kebab, “I’m so sorry it took me over a year to get you out.”

“What are you apologising for?” Erwin asked softly, smiling, eating his kebab and thinking it was the best meal he’d ever had, “You did an amazing job. Especially taking what you were up against.”

Hange grinned, their lips full of grease and their spectacles fogged up. “It wasn’t easy, you know?”

“Will you tell me now how you found out it’d been Kenny Ackerman?” Erwin asked, taking a big swig of his coke.

Hange had refused to talk about any details during their visits because the other prisoners could overhear them. You could never be too safe when disgustingly wealthy people were involved. Hange was dying to blabber endlessly about it, and Erwin was ready to listen to everything.

“Yeah, I can,” Hange said, “it was actually his nephew who came to find me and told me the way Alma was killed was his uncle’s style of killing.”

Erwin blinked, confused. “His nephew?”

“Yes, his nephew, Levi Ackerman,” Hange confirmed, “he’s also a fighter, you see. Or _you will_ see because I’ll see that you do,” Hange said and grinned before their expression got serious again as they sipped on their vanilla shake “his nephew found me, not too long after they threw you in the slammer. And I worked with him to find out where his uncle might be. We couldn’t find that old weasel. So, we focused on Rod Reiss,” Hange said and took another bite of their kebab, spilling sauce all over their legs but not bothering, “he’d been the one to frame you. Levi told me that Kenny was around your height, and that’s why they got the witnesses to say you fit the description. Then Levi told me something that had me suspect that Rod Reiss wasn’t just an ugly old bastard,” they said and stopped to take a sip of their shake. Erwin sighed and leant his elbow on the open window of the car.

“Levi told me that his uncle and Rod Reiss’s brother, Uri Reiss, had been close. Uri was the one who was supposed to be mayor, Rod was his right-hand man. Then Uri suddenly died of a heart attack,” Hange paused and sighed, glancing at Erwin, who already knew where that was going, “I did a lot of digging and hacked into Uri Reiss’s medical history and his autopsy records. Uri Reiss didn’t have any heart conditions. A man whose name I recognised from a previous case of mine did his autopsy, a case that I lost,” Hange paused and aggressively drank their coke, finishing their kebab, “and I went to find him with Levi. We got the truth out of him. After a bit of, er, talking, he confessed that Uri Reiss had been strangled to death.”

Erwin finished his food and looked out the windscreen before rubbing his forehead and eyes. “Okay, okay, so you, er, _convinced_ him to talk,” he said because there was nothing else he could say.

“From there, Levi said that our mission was to find Kenny,” Hange continued, ignoring Erwin’s comment, “and I wasn’t sure why he was so sure that’d do it but then he told me,” they sighed and finished their food, throwing their rubbish in the bag along with Erwin’s, “Kenny and Uri had been lovers. It’d been to him that Kenny had been loyal, not Rod, but Rod probably used his sorrow to bring him to his side and have him do the dirty work for him.”

“And how did you find Kenny, then?”

“Oh, we were doing it all wrong at first,” Hange groaned, “we were so dumb. We did the same shit we did the first time. Tried to find him. But of course, we wouldn’t. So, Levi had an idea,” Hange said and smiled, “we just had to get to Rod Reiss and kidnap him. Then have him call Kenny.”

Erwin blinked. That was a story he’d wanted to hear, sure, but he’d just gotten out of prison. His brain was still not computing things as they were in the real world. “And you got him?”

“We did! Oh, we did!” Hange exclaimed proudly, slamming both hands on the wheel, “It was so easy. The bastard was cocky because he had Kenny on his side, so he was reckless. It was like snatching a bin bag from the landfill. We shoved him in the car, and I drove us to an empty warehouse. We didn’t even have to tell him to call Kenny. When we passed him the phone for the “ransom”,” Hange did inverted commas with their fingers and cackled, “he just called Kenny,” Hange grinned and wiped their hands on their pants before cleaning their spectacles with their shirt, “when he heard Levi call Kenny uncle, you should have seen his face! Oh, it was beautiful! That fucking bastard looked like he’d seen a ghost!” they exclaimed, “Levi told him right away that Rod had killed Uri and then told him where we were. Kenny came in a couple of hours later, covered in blood,” Hange said and sighed, “he’s a terrifying man but he was livid. I’ve never seen anyone so angry in my life. He didn’t let Rod’s bullshit get to him and before we knew it, Rod Reiss was dead. Not a slow death. Kenny beat the living shit out of him before shooting both his kneecaps and slicing his throat,” Hange shivered then, “I don’t like to think about it. Levi watched. I couldn’t stand it.”

Erwin listened in silence, staring at the peeling dashboard and scraping off a bit of dirt with a fingernail, thinking. “And Kenny Ackerman turned himself in and confessed to killing Alma,” he mumbled. Then sniffed, “why, though?”

Hange shrugged. “I don’t have an answer for that,” they said, “he and Levi talked after that for a bit, just the two of them, before we called the cops and left the scene. I don’t know what they talked about, but I saw Kenny hug Levi and smile at him,” they told him and then sighed, “I don’t know more details. Levi isn’t chatty.”

“What I don’t get,” Erwin said at last, “is why Levi wanted to help you clean my name.”

“Ah,” Hange grinned, “I think that when you meet him, you’ll know.”

“You said he was a fighter?”

“He is,” Hange said and looked at him with a grin, “and so are you. Can’t wait to see you in the ring again!”

Erwin hummed and scrunched his nose, looking out the window at the clear blue sky. “That’s not something I think will happen again,” he said mildly and ignored Hange’s horrified gasp, “I’m going to announce my retirement and will open my own gym. I want to teach people how to fight. There are many people out there who could use the confidence, you know?” he said and smiled at his shocked friend, “Many pointless fights can be avoided when you know you’re strong.”

Hange groaned and shrugged, starting the car. “Whatever you say, I guess. It’s your choice,” they said, “you feel different,” they looked at him and he smiled looking out of the window.

“I was in jail for one year and two months,” Erwin said, “it’s not a fun place, that,” he added and sniffed, “I just want to take it easy from now on.”

“You’re talking like an old man,” Hange said and sighed, changing the gear. It crackled a little and Erwin glanced at it, “but you’re still young,” they shook their head, “I feel like you’ll make your fans mad. They’ve been eager to see you out of there since I started hinting that I could prove your innocence.”

“I’m out of there now, thanks to you,” Erwin said softly, “they’ll just have to deal with it. I’m not the only boxer in the world.”

“I thought you were a fighter, though,” Hange said and made a face.

“I am,” Erwin said, smiling, “that won’t change just because I want to turn to teaching,” he said, “and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll bow my head and admit that you were right.”

Hange didn’t push the subject. Erwin was thankful for that. That was something he’d decided already. It was true that he was a fighter, though. He just didn’t want to compete professionally anymore. Maybe he’d change his mind, but it didn’t feel likely. All he wanted was to take it easy. Train by himself, teach people how to defend themselves, enjoy a nice cup of tea with a good flick. The good life, that’s all he wanted.

* * *

**II. Saints of the underdogs and slivers of justice**

* * *

The Reiss heiress, the child of the woman he’d seen for a while generously compensated Erwin. Historia wasn’t keen on politics, but her generous donations to several charities, and especially NGOs dedicated to protecting women, turned her into a Saint of sorts. Some started saying she’d be the next mayor, but she was too young. Keith Shadis was elected mayor after the Reiss scandal, while Historia handled the social affairs. 

She cared about the people. She’d suffered hell because of her father, too. Her mother was a wreck. The only time she saw her mother smile was when Erwin Smith appeared in their lives. He was considerably younger than her mother—in fact, he was closer to her own age than he was to her mother’s—but he seemed to care for her mother, and what mattered was that her mother was happy. Until her father found out about it and in a fit of jealousy, despite Alma being nothing but a mistress to him, he’d had her killed. When the news talked about Erwin being the culprit, Historia didn’t believe it for a second. 

She’d wanted to meet him in person instead of quietly transferring the money. Erwin accepted it.

“Erwin,” Historia said to him when they met at an inconspicuous café to take care of the transaction, “I wanted to thank you.”

Erwin looked at her over his cup of coffee. “Your mother died because of me, Historia, you shouldn’t be thanking me.”

“No,” Historia said and shook her head, “my mother died because of my father. He killed her. He’d been killing her for years,” her teacup rattled against the saucer when she put it down and sighed, clenching her fists, then, “you saved my mother from dying drunk in the street and you made her happy,” her eyes welled up when she said that, but she smiled, “it was the first time in all my 21 years of life that I remember seeing her smile. I don’t know what you felt for her or what she felt for you, but you made her happy,” she sniffed and picked up her a teacup again, taking another sip, her eyes shimmering, “and that’s what I’m thanking you for. I needed to say this to you in person.”

Erwin looked at her and sipped on his coffee. Then he sighed as he put his cup down. He rested his intertwined fingers against his forehead, closing his eyes. “I’m guilty anyway, even if I didn’t do it. I should have been more careful. I liked your mother,” he said, at last, looking at her, “and I wanted to help her get the strength to get rid of that man. I had no idea who he was until it was too late,” he snorted mirthlessly, then, “it’s odd though,” he said and sniffed, draining the rest of his cup and putting it aside, “how come you inherited everything?”

“Kenny,” Historia said simply and sipped on her tea, gripping her cup, “before he killed my father, he killed all my half-siblings and Rod Reiss’s wife,” she said and Erwin opened his mouth, blinking, “Kenny is deranged. I don’t know what led him to do that, and I don’t like to think about it,” she said and put her teacup aside, “but that’s the reason. I’m a bastard child, but he gave me his name to keep my mother on a leash. I was the only Reiss left.”

“I’m glad that at least his dirty money is in good hands now,” Erwin said and sighed, “I’ve been out for a week. It’s hard to believe what was happening outside while I was there in the dark.”

Historia smiled and dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin. “You have many people who like you, Erwin,” she said, “I saw the news that you’re retiring, but you don’t look out of shape. I think people are disappointed that you’re not going to fight anymore.”

Erwin smiled and sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not retiring because I can’t fight anymore,” he’d said that so many times already, both to his upset friends and the press, it felt like a speech by then, “I’m retiring because when I was in prison, I realised that a lot of fights can be avoided. If you’re confident in the power of your fists, you’re better at using your words,” he said with a smile, “and if you’re interested, when I have everything set, you’re welcome to join. I’ll be teaching three different styles, not just boxing. You can pick the one you like the most.”

Historia looked at him, a bit shocked, but then smiled. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about learning how to fight, I just haven’t found the style that suits me best.”

“You have the eyes of a fighter,” Erwin said with a smile before covering a yawn, “oh, sorry, haven’t been sleeping much,” he said, “I think it’s Jiu-Jitsu, the style for you,” he suggested.

“Hm,” Historia mused, “is that like Judo?”

Erwin scrunched his face and shook his head. “Not quite, there are some similar things, but Jiu-Jitsu is ground fighting and you’re small, Judo relies more on tripping people.”

“Ah, I’ll look into it,” Historia said and stood up, “I’ll drive you home,” she said and Erwin nodded, smiling.

“Thank you, I’m taking that offer.”

They walked out of the coffee shop together into the warmth of the bustling street. Erwin stretched his arms and yawned again. He’d been having trouble sleeping on a normal bed with a soft mattress. Call it prison-lag.

* * *

Erwin bought a building with the money. It was an old two-storey construction from the 1960s. The location was excellent, central, and the space was ideal. Quite the find, Hange had said, but a mess in need of serious renovations. Hange had connections everywhere. They found him a good civil engineer and an interior designer. It had a basement that was full of boxes packed with old books. Erwin was happy with the find and spent some time sorting them out. He kept several of them. When he got the ones that were to be donated out, he decided that after being updated, that was where the machines would go. The ground level where he could set up the gym proper, and he’d live above it. It took about three months to have the works done and make the place both a place to live and a place to train and teach how to fight. 

“But why do you need that?” Nile asked, annoyed when he asked him to make him some flyers to spread around, “Just post on Instagram. You’re a celebrity.”

“Nile, I’m paying you to do it,” Erwin said, sitting across from him at this office, “have the printer fumes made you lose your mind? I’m asking you to print out 5000 flyers and you’re telling me you don’t want the job?”

Nile slammed his hand on the table and frowned at him. “I don’t want _your_ money;” he said, “you’re a moron, but I think of you as a friend. And you don’t need any damn flyers.”

“I’m telling Marie you’re turning down customers,” Erwin said flatly, leaning back on the timber chair of Nile’s messy office, “and I’ll tell her you lied about having stopped smoking.”

Nile gasped and sat back in his plush executive chair. “You wouldn’t,” he hissed, then, “and how the fuck do you know I didn’t stop, though? I don’t even smoke in here.”

“I started hating the smell of cigarettes,” Erwin said, “everyone in prison smokes all the time. They’ll kill for smokes. _Literally_ kill,” he said, looking at his friend in the eyes, “I know you’re just prideful, but I’m stubborn, as you may know. And I want you to make my flyers.”

Nile huffed and aggressively grabbed a notebook and a pen. “How many did you say?”

“5000,” Erwin said with a smile, “in full colour and glossy paper. The logo should be my wings.”

“I’ll send you the sketch after my designer does it,” he said, “Name of the damn thing.”

Erwin hummed. He’d been going over it with Hange, and they’d narrowed it down to two. “Help me pick. I thought it could just be ‘ _Smith’s Gym_ ’ but Hange says it should be _‘Wings of Freedom Gym’.”_

“Smith’s sounds boring and your brand has been wings for years, so Hange is right,” Nile said and wrote that down, “when do you need them?”

Erwin ignored the comment about his boring name-pick because he agreed. “Maybe next week? I’m not in a rush.”

“Okay, then,” Nile said and put the notebook aside, looking at his smiling friend, “don’t tell Marie I smoke behind her back,” he said and groaned. Erwin chortled, “shut up,” he complained and glared at him, “What about you, asshole? When are you thinking of settling down?”

“When I feel like it,” Erwin said and smiled, “maybe never, if settling down means being scared shitless of having your pregnant wife know you’re smoking behind her back,” he teased. Nile threw a paperweight in his direction and he dodged it. It clattered against the floor, “maybe you could come in the gym when it opens,” Erwin said, getting up, “the baby won’t come out for another four months, I don’t think Marie’s mood will improve as the due date nears.” 

Nile groaned and covered his head with his hands. “I thought this time around she would hate me less, but even my smell makes her angry,” he complained, “and then she doesn’t want me to smoke. As if I can help it, with all the stress, goddammit.”

“What you need to release that pent-up energy,” Erwin said, getting the paperweight he’d thrown at him and returning it to the table, “and stop throwing stuff at your childhood friends.”

“She seemed happy to be next to you, didn’t seem grossed out,” Nile muttered, getting the paperweight and gripping it. Erwin made a face and stared down at him. Nile met his eyes and looked guilty, “sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just losing my mind.”

Erwin huffed and turned to the door, saying nothing else. Nile called after him and he looked back to face him.

“I mean it, Erwin. I’m sorry. It was a shitty comment,” his friend said, the anger gone from his voice. 

Erwin sighed and nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine, I understand. Let me know when you get the design. See you later,” he said as he opened the door and left.

It wasn’t fine, though. 

It frustrated him so much he could barely hold it in. Nile hadn’t said it to hurt him, but things had changed. For one, when they’d gone to University together with Hange and Mike, all those years ago, and both of them and had their eye on Marie, Erwin had been an 18-year-old bloke who’d had nothing aside from his first kiss. He didn’t know about prison, and he didn’t know about how cruel men could be out of an absurd sense of ownership over women. Nile wasn’t like that and Erwin knew his comment had come from a different place, but it still hurt.

Erwin was a boy from a good and loving family. Fighting had just been something he’d wanted to do since he was a kid. His idol would always be King Muhammad Ali, the Greatest of all time, and his fighting style resembled his. But he’d started boxing because he’d watched Ashita no Joe as a kid. Joe was his favourite character, but he couldn’t relate to him, what he related with was his desire to fight. Erwin didn’t have any hate or sorrow inside him, and he didn’t need to defend himself against bullies, but he found fighting fun. That was his only reason to fight. It was fun. 

And now? Now he wanted to be a coach like coach Danpei had been to Joe. He wanted to give people confidence and help them hold their heads high. It was a silly childhood memory, but he’d decided to become a boxer because of it. And sometimes that’s all it takes.

“Are you busy?” Hange asked on the phone later that day.

“No,” Erwin said, sat on the couch after a shower, “what do you need?”

“I need you to come down to the Underground with me,” Hange said, and Erwin could hear the smile in their voice. Erwin groaned a little. He’d sweated himself dry at his gym and was ready to sit down, watch half a film with a cup of tea, and sleep.

“Any particular reason you’re calling me at,” he got the phone away from his ear to check the time, “9:32 pm on a Tuesday to go watch an underground rigged fight?”

“Yes,” Hange chirped in glee, “it’s Levi. He’ll be fighting tonight.”

“Oh,” Erwin smiled a little, his curiosity piqued, “okay, I’m listening.”

“Remember when you fought there? When you got your title?” Hange asked.

Erwin was interested then. “I do, of course.”

“You know what they call him?”

“What?”

“They call him _the Captain_ ,” Hange said, almost too excited, “because he’s the best after you!”

Erwin hadn’t heard that yet. Hange had sporadically talked about Levi through the months but never specified where he fought or what he fought. He knew nothing about him aside from that he’d found Hange and helped them clean his name. Erwin didn’t even know what weight category he was. 

“Alright,” Erwin said, at last, sighing and hearing Hange’s cheerful noises, “let me just get dressed. Are you picking me up? I still haven’t gotten around to getting a car.”

“Goddammit, it’s the easiest thing to do, all you have to do is ask Mike,” Hange complained, “but, yeah, I’ll pick you, then.”

* * *

**III. The Captain who couldn’t be promoted yet**

* * *

“What happened to your headlight?” Erwin asked, getting in the backseat of Hange’s Mercedes. Moblit was on the passenger’s side, holding the handle over the door.

“Uh, a little accident,” they said. Moblit sighed softly, “there was a fox on the street, and I swerved to avoid hitting it. Knocked some bins over. It’s still working, so it’s fine.”

“The scented trees’ collection is also gone,” Erwin noticed the lack of that chunky mess on the rear-view mirror.

“The insurance company said it was because I had crap obstructing the view,” they complained, “but it wasn’t! Those bastards! Those stingy bastards!” they drove off into the night to the outskirts of town, “We’ll get it fixed, though. Just didn’t have the time yet, I’ve been working on a tricky case,” their mood shifted, and they were on cloud nine, their eyes gleaming behind their spectacles, “and that boy is getting his name cleaned!” they shook their fist.

“Careful, Hange,” Moblit said softly, “eyes on the road.”

“Right, right,” they said, putting both hands back on the wheel and sighing, “for the night, we’re watching some good MMA fighting!”

“Have you ever seen Levi fight, Erwin?” Moblit asked.

Erwin shook his head. “I haven’t. Hange tells me wonders about him. But I don’t know much about him.”

“In my defence, neither do I,” said Hange, “all I know is that he’s outstanding. You just had to come tonight. It one of the lineal tournaments, with big money running under the table. Cops can’t close it down because they’re violent bastards and they love to see kids get crushed by more experienced fighters. And it’s a given that Levi will win tonight, but not because it’s rigged,” Hange clarified, “you’ll see with your own eyes.”

“I guess I will,” Erwin said and smiled, feeling his pocket, sighing. The excitement and anticipation were welcome. So much for wanting to retire and take it easy.

* * *

Erwin’s heart and soul were in boxing, but a part of his soul was in MMA. That’s where he’d started fighting as a young lad, trying to be rebellious. And he’d fallen for it, too. It was the thrill of not knowing what your opponent knew for him.

His eyes swam through the crowd milling around the ring with worn vermillion ropes. Just the way he remembered it. The smell of sweat and booze, the stench of cigars and cigarettes, the smoke snaking through the crowd. It was unbearably warm and stuffy. But that was just the way it was.

“Nostalgic?” Hange said with a grin, looking up to see Erwin’s eyes.

“A bit,” he offered, honestly, then scrunched his nose, “wish there wasn’t so much smoke though.”

“You didn’t mind it before,” Hange said over the noise, looking at him.

“Now I do,” Erwin said vaguely, “so, when’s he getting on the ring?”

“The small fish go in first,” Hange explained, “they should be at it already. He’ll fight whoever makes it through.”

“Lineal stuff down here is rigged,” Erwin said and sighed, leaning over the metal railing where they stood, watching, “look at that kid,” he pointed at a white kid with a shaved head. He had a whole patch of hair missing and it was scabbing over, “guess he learnt the hard way why _Vale-Tudo_ fighters shave their heads.”

Because that’s what that was down there. It was MMA, but the rules boiled down to ‘don’t kill’. But boys had died there, and Erwin had seen it happen more than once before choosing boxing for good. 

“We don’t come here often,” Hange confessed, “in fact, this is our second time,” they said and sighed, “I don’t like to watch it. We came in to see Levi fight when he said he’d come from here too. Boxing isn’t much better, but it’s nicer to watch.” Hange said.

“It’s just as violent, though,” Erwin said and sniffed, “there’s stuff happening in the dark that you shouldn’t know.”

Hange agreed. “Yeah, if you’re saying that, then don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

Moblit looked at Erwin, giving him a look of recognition. “I think I know what you mean.”

Erwin nodded and looked on at the amateurs going all out against each other. It was a pathetic show when it started because anyone could participate. It was for the money. Most of those kids were poor. Erwin had been an exception and sometimes he felt guilty - like he was slumming - but he calmed himself down by reasoning that once he was established down there, he started picking his fights. And despite the protests, once it was clear that he wouldn’t hurt an amateur, the organisers relented. He was the Commander after all. But in the end, he’d left. Tough luck for those crooks.

He focused on the two fighters who’d just climbed onto the ring. The thing about the underground MMA scene was that weight categories were irrelevant. You fought people heavier and lighter than you all the time. Because nobody was there to see a fair fight—they were there to see blood. The cheers were the loudest when the fighters were badly injured. For Erwin, it wasn’t fun when your opponent wanted to maim you for no reason. Yet, he still liked the Mixed aspect of it. MMA had started as a way to see which martial art was the most powerful, and the conclusion was that none of them was. The strongest fighter was the one who fought the best with what they knew. Simple as that.

Now, these kids were mostly sluggers. Erwin could tell as much. They weren’t terrible fighters, but they had too much anger and nerves in them, they couldn’t stay calm, they didn’t know how to breathe, and made amateurish mistakes that cost them their victory. 

The announcer yelled into the raspy mic that the fighter who’d face their champion had been decided. It was a brown boy called Johnson. Probably cruiserweight. A southpaw. Tall. And with a hammer punch that he’d been using all night to knock-out his opponents, sometimes with a single blow. Erwin looked on, not hiding his curiosity. Hange nudged his side, and he looked at them. They gestured towards the corner where the champion was coming from.

It surprised Erwin to see that it was a short, stubby man. A welterweight, probably, maybe a super lightweight. He couldn’t be sure until he fought him. Levi was built like a Renaissance statue if they made those small instead of massive. What stood out was the size difference between him and his opponent. Erwin saw that the crowd loved him and his presence filled the ring. His eyes shimmered with focus, not anger. His fingers were taped roughly, and he didn’t wear gloves. Nobody there did. Reckless fighters didn’t tape, and that seldom ended well, but nobody minded the pain. What mattered was not tearing the tendons and smashing the sensitive bones in the hands. That’s what the tape did. 

“That’s Levi,” Hange said with a grin.

“I know,” Erwin said, and his eyes were fixed on the shirtless, hardy man on the ring. 

His poise was that of a man who knew his body and controlled it.

Right off the bat, Erwin saw that Levi was a strategist, not a slugger, but his lack of proper training was glaring. He’d never fought Johnson. It was like watching a Muay Thai fight at first. The first round was a bit underwhelming as Levi tested his impatient opponent. He kept his distance. Johnson landed a kick to his side, and he barely flinched. They landed a few low-kicks, and mild body blows. Levi got inside Johnson’s reach and landed a jab in the middle of his chest, and Erwin wasn’t surprised. The man was a slugger, and he wasn’t quick or patient. Levi tested his southpaw and saw that it wasn’t the asset it could be. Levi gave his opponent a lopsided smile, taunting, and Erwin gasped when he saw it working. Johnson tried for a straight jab, but Levi dodged it and got inside again, landing a powerful corkscrew punch on his stomach. Erwin’s grin lit up his whole face. 

“I told you he was good!” Hange shouted over the deafening screams of the crowd, that Erwin was barely taking notice of.

“That guy is a moron,” Moblit said, “he’s looking down on Levi!”

But while that was true, it wasn’t because of it that Levi had the upper hand. It was on the second round that it got serious. As Erwin expected, Levi was an infighter. He was a lot shorter than Johnson and quickly got rid of his reach advantage by stepping inside his reach. He struck his stomach hard with his elbow before gripping his shoulder and sweeping his leg, dumping him on his ass. The crowd cheered. But Johnson wasn’t done. He tried to get away and go for a straight jab. All he needed was to land a head punch. If he did that, Levi would be done for. He was in trouble when Levi got inside again. He was too slow, and his defence was shit. Johnson landed several kicks on the shins and sides of Levi’s body, but none of that made him fall. Then Levi was inside one last time, and his jabs were deadly, as it went with shorter fighters. Everything counted. Erwin didn’t see it coming, though, when Johnson put Levi in the clinch. It was a tight one.

“Oh no,” he heard Moblit say, and Hange hissed.

“It’s the end,” Hange said, shaking their end, “that was a dangerous move.”

The crowd cheered wildly, as if the match was already over. Erwin’s heart was pounding hard, and he clenched his fists. Was Levi going to lose? 

Then he saw what they meant. Levi, who’d been calm and controlled until that moment, lost his mind. 

When Johnson put him in the clinch, he went berserk. Erwin couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Levi knee his liver so hard his opponent spat blood. That was a knock-out, but Levi wasn’t done. He elbowed his face and Erwin didn’t have to hear the noise to know that he smashed his jaw. Johnson fell on his knees and Erwin saw in horror that Levi wasn’t stopping. He pasted the sole of his taped foot on that man’s face, full force, making him topple backwards, blood gushing out of his swollen, battered face. 

The referee only got on the ring in one of those fights for two reasons—to announce the winner and to stop a fighter from killing the other. The latter usually with two or three other guys as backup. Levi’s bloodied wrist was forcefully raised. The crowd boomed in cheers and the backup guys looked after Johnson. Levi’s eyes were foggy with anger, but the cheers of the crowd seemed to reach him. He raised his other arm and accepted the crappy metal trophy fighters got when they won underground tournaments. Levi raised it above his head and his eyes swam over the crowd. 

And met with Erwin’s, who was standing in his field of view and was kind of hard to miss. He squinted at him. Hange waved and jumped up and down, almost too excited, pointing at Erwin, who didn’t know what was going on until he saw Levi’s finger pointed directly at him. 

The spotlight was on Erwin now, and he vaguely heard the announcer yell at the crowd,

“UNBELIEVABLE! I CAN’T BELIEVE MY FUCKING EYES! THE RETIRED COMMANDER IS AMONG US TONIGHT, FOLKS! THREE TIMES HEAVYWEIGHT BOXING CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! TWO TIMES LINEAL CHAMPION AND NO DEFEATS! AND THE CAPTAIN IS CHALLENGING HIM FOR A FIGHT! COULD IT BE THAT WE’LL SEE IF THE CAPTAIN CAN BE PROMOTED TO COMMANDER TONIGHT?”

The crowd roared and the cries of _‘FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!’_ echoed deafening in Erwin’s ears. He snorted and sighed deeply.

“I feel like I was set up,” he said to Hange and Moblit, jumping over the railing, hearing his friends laugh when they saw him get a roll of boxer’s tape and a mouthpiece from his jeans’ pocket. Yeah, so maybe he was ready.

The crowd opened a pathway for him to get to the ring. He hopped on it, bending down to go through the vermillion ropes. Levi looked even shorter when they were close. Erwin felt the smell of Johnson’s blood that had been hastily wiped. The stain was still there. Erwin got rid of his trainers and belt and threw them aside along with his socks before yanking his dress shirt over his head and throwing it aside as well. Then he taped his fingers tightly, the Muay Thai way, and taped his feet as well. The feeling of Levi’s piercing gaze bore into the skin of his back as he crouched to tape his feet. 

Then he rolled his neck, cracking it a bit, and warmed up a little, smiling. Levi looked angry, and Erwin didn’t know why. Maybe residual anger from his previous opponent.

“You’re looking into my eyes,” was the first thing Erwin ever said to Levi, “that’s the kind of fighter I like the most.” 

Erwin put his blue mouthpiece in. He didn’t lube up and he could tell that Levi hadn’t, either. Levi was covered in sweat. Erwin was still dry, which would allow Levi to grip him better.

Unlike Johnson, Erwin didn’t look down on shorter opponents. He knew how they fought, and he’d gotten his ass kicked by some of them in his years of training. He also knew that Levi’s skill was both hard work and natural talent, but he lacked discipline. And Erwin had already seen him fight. From Hange’s reaction, he had to assume that Levi had also seen him fight before. That was confirmed when he didn’t wait to test the waters before lunging at him, trying to get inside and get rid of the arms reach advantage that Erwin had. Erwin had been expecting that. And his style was similar to Muhammad Ali’s. Big and fast, a deadly combo. Levi’s footwork was better than his, but he was bigger and could get away faster. He shinned Levi’s left flank and watched him bite down on his red mouthpiece. He got in faster than Erwin could stop him and punched him repeatedly in the stomach. It hurt like a bitch, but Erwin didn’t keel over. He pulled away and shinned his thigh. Levi lost balance, and Erwin took the chance to grab his arm and sweep him, dumping him on his back. He knew what Levi would do next. Levi got up and crouched, charging at his legs. Erwin toppled and fell on his back with a loud, dull thud. He hadn’t forgotten how hard the floors were down there. Levi went in for submission. The ground was the short fighter’s domain, and Erwin knew that. He was grinning though, the excitement of being on the ring with a worthy opponent making him flush more than the chokehold Levi put him in, restraining his lower body movements with legs tightly wrapped around his waist from behind. Erwin was in the thick for a moment, and the thought of losing made him so happy he almost cried. 

But he knew what to do.

He swam his arms through the small openings inside Levi’s arms and forcefully pulled himself away from there. Levi clambered to his feet and squared up again, but Erwin was ready for his instant charge. Levi was counting on him being out of breath from the chokehold. Big mistake. When he was inside, Erwin kneed his thigh, and he lost balance. Erwin gripped him and got him on the floor, grabbing him from behind. Levi was the one in the chokehold then, with Erwin’s legs wrapped around his waist. Levi gasped and struggled, trying by the life of him to get out of there, but it was over. Erwin saw his eyes flutter and his mouth open, drooling over his arms, and he went slack in his arms. He released him then and won by KO. The crowd cheered, and the announcer shouted,

“INCREDIBLE! WHAT A FIGHT, FOLKS! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT! THE COMMANDER COMING IN TO PROVE TO US THAT HE’S STILL UNRIVALLED BOTH UNDERGROUND AND UP THERE UNDER THE BIG LIGHTS!”

Levi came to a couple of seconds later and blinked up at the bright lights overhead, hazy from the smoke, lightheaded. He sat down and shook his head, spitting out his mouthpiece.

“Fuck,” he cussed hoarsely, looking around. Erwin was still there, standing ahead of him, and he smiled when he saw him awake. Levi gritted his teeth and accepted the hand he was reaching down to him to help him to his feet.

“Good fight, I hadn’t had this much fun in years,” Erwin said, honesty and excitement pouring from his every syllable, “you’re as amazing as I was told you’d be.”

“Still fucking lost, didn’t I?” Levi rasped, letting go of his hand and gritting his teeth. They got off the ring. Levi was lightheaded and almost fell. Hange and Moblit were there by the ring, waiting for them. 

“Not exactly what I’d think of as the perfect first meeting, but you’ve finally met,” Hange said and grinned, handing his shoes, “how do you feel?”

“Amazing!” Erwin said and grinned, glancing at Levi, who was frowning, with a bruising side. Erwin’s leg was aching, but he meant it. He felt amazing. He felt _alive._ And Hange had only given him his shoes, “this was so much fun. Where’s my shirt?”

“No idea, that’s all we could find,” Hange said and shrugged, “we can get another one somewhere. Let’s get out of here and have something to drink. Unless you want to say hi to your fans?” they said, looking from Erwin to Levi. Both gave them a similar expression, “That’s what I thought. Go get your pay and get out here, then,” they said, patting Levi’s shoulder, “don’t look so upset! It was the best fight of the night!”

Levi clucked his tongue and walked off to go get his pay. When he stepped outside, he walked over to a dumpster bin and dumped the trophy in it.

* * *

**IV. The Bitterness of Fighting for Revenge**

* * *

It was past midnight when they crashed together at a park under a tree with two packs of beer and some water, that they got from a convenience store with some snacks. Erwin didn’t like bars because of the smoke, and he’d lost his shirt. And his socks. At least they’d left his shoes. Now he was wearing a cheap green t-shirt. 

Moblit was the designated driver, so he had a single beer, but he hoarded the snacks.

“Ah, look at this,” Hange yawped giddily, throwing themself onto Moblit, who chuckled, “I’m glad we’re all here together, free as birds!”

Levi had been drinking beer, but his mood hadn’t improved. Erwin looked at him and saw his frown.

“Are you pissed because you lost?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, but his voice didn’t sound as pissed as he looked, “I thought I could get you since you’d been out of the game,” he paused and stuffed biscuits in his mouth, eating them before speaking again, “but you kicked my ass… in jeans,” he said and his frowned deepened, staring at Erwin’s jeans as if they’d personally offended him.

“I wasn’t out of the game,” Erwin said with a smile, feeling a bit buzzed, “in the clink, there isn’t much to do but train. I met some interesting guys there. It wasn’t all bad. Though I did get shanked.”

“You got what!?” Hange asked, suddenly alert, “You didn’t tell me that!”

“Yeah, no big deal,” he said, “it was on the thigh, it usually is. I didn’t get mad, but I beat him up, just to stop them from shanking me again, you know? I thought I’d be going back to the ring professionally when I got out,” he said and smiled, “but a lot of the guys knew me, and I saw that a lot of their aggressiveness came from not knowing how to fight. So, I taught them. Things got a lot more peaceful after that.”

“Oh,” Hange nodded, impressed, “that’s kind of weird, but I guess… yeah, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“I think it does,” Moblit agreed, “if you know how to fight, you’re less scared.”

Levi scoffed. “And that’s why you retired?” he spat, glaring at Erwin, “Because of some guys in the clink?”

“Sort of,” Erwin said and shrugged, “but not only. I’m just tired, I guess. Maybe I don’t want to beat Muhammad Ali’s record after all,” he sighed, “I’ve already made a name for myself, for good and for bad,” he said and sighed, looking up at the starry night sky through the dark tree crowns, “I’ve been crowned enough. Now I want to teach and enjoy my life.”

“Fuck you, man,” Levi said, crossed, and glaring, “I wanted to fucking beat you tonight, I thought that if I beat you, then you wouldn’t retire but I got my ass kicked instead,” he said and made a face, “don’t give me that stupid look.”

Erwin didn’t know what he meant with 'stupid look'. All he knew was that it surprised him, and his heart skipped a little beat. And he decided to say it, “You couldn’t beat me like that,” he said mildly, “you’d have to train, learn some discipline, focus your strength. You’ve got the talent and the power, but it’s all jumbled up. Who taught you how to fight?”

Levi scoffed. “Nobody,” he spat, “nobody fucking taught me. I’m not a rich boy who can go to Brazil and Thailand, and where the fuck else you’ve been to learn.”

Erwin looked at him, drunk but not out of his mind. “You’re telling me you’re self-taught?”

“Yeah,” Levi said, defiantly.

Erwin was quiet, musing. He’d thought that he’d just gotten some pointers from a lousy teacher. “That’s incredible. How did you do that?”

“Watching you and people like you,” he grunted, “videos,” he said and cracked another beer, downing some of it, a shaking hand gripping the metal, “all I was taught to use before were knives, but that’s fucking useless if it’s all you can use. You drop it, you’re done,” he said bitterly.

Erwin listened attentively and didn’t comment on the knife talk. Then he smiled and asked, “I can see the ambition in your eyes. Why don’t you let me train you?”

Hange gasped and clapped their hands, nodding. 

Levi thought he’d misheard. “What d’you say?”

“I’m offering to coach you. I can teach you all three arts I know, but I think boxing is the one for you,” Erwin said and smiled, “you’ve got the spirit of a boxer.”

“What’s that mean?” Levi asked, unsure.

“You’re focused and your upper body strength is outstanding,” Erwin told him, closing his eyes, “I was in trouble back there when you caught me. I thought I wouldn’t be able to escape. It made me so happy.”

Levi gave him a mildly disgusted look. “I know it did. You were smiling, you fucking weirdo,” Levi said and frowned, downing the rest of his beer, “who the hell is happy with something like that?”

Erwin didn’t answer and smiled instead. “You haven’t said yes yet,” he said, “if you let me coach you, you’ll climb the ranks,” he promised, “and maybe you can beat me after that,” he said.

Levi huffed and crumpled the can in his hands, staring at it. His heart raced at the prospect of leaving the underground. He didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, it was already an answer. “How much do you charge for that?”

Erwin looked at him and smiled, a bit drunk. “It’s thanks to you that Hange got me out of prison. And you made me so happy tonight, I thought I’d cry,” Erwin said, chuckling when he saw Levi’s weirded-out face, “do you really think I’d charge you any money?”

Levi looked at him in the eyes with slightly unfocused ones and then sighed. “Fucking weirdo. Why not, then? When do I start?”

Erwin sighed and leant back onto his hands. “That’d be on Thursday, I think, in the afternoon. To let us cool down from tonight. The gym only opens two weeks from now, but you’re not going to be training with beginners. If I’m your trainer, we’ll be training alone,” he said and then, “this is so exciting,” he said and grinned.

“Crazy bastard,” Levi muttered and sighed, throwing the crumpled can in the bin near the tree where they’d all sat under. But he bit his lip and breathed heavily, holding back, “Why the fuck did we sit on the dirt like a bunch of stupid kids instead of on a bench, though?

Hange’s hearty laughed filled the night, and the others laughed along, the alcohol and the high of the evening getting to them. Levi was annoyed at himself for also finding it amusing. These people were dragging him into their madness. And he was letting them.

* * *


	3. Hearts of fighters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a PTSD episode.
> 
> Hope you're enjoying it so far, already saw some comments. Thank you!
> 
> I really don't want anybody to be (too) disappointed. 
> 
> And I low-key hope some of you enjoy the descriptions of fighting and the fighting related things. I made sure that things were as accurate as I could possibly make them. Also, I hate being in the clinch myself, but for different reasons. If you're claustrophobic, it's a nightmare.
> 
> Ah, the lineal championship is different from the regular one. It's basically boxers competing to beat the previous championship's winner. It's more aggressive, too. Muhammad Ali is the only one who's ever won it three times. On the fourth attempt, he was robbed and I'll die on this hill.

* * *

**I. Milky tea and an elephant**

* * *

Being friendly was something Levi Ackerman reserved for small children and some elderly people. Nobody else was worth the effort. So, when he met with people such as Hange, Moblit, and Erwin, he didn’t know how to act and wanted to flee. But he didn’t. He stuck by them and found that he didn’t want to leave them. They were kind, for kindness’s sake. What was up with that?

Levi had thought about what type of person Erwin would be for many years. Seeing him smile when he showed up at his door and offering him something to drink was at the bottom of the list. He’d seen this man take down established opponents in the boxing ring with a single punch knock-out. He’d seen him time offences so well, it looked almost like he was doing maths in his head with his every move. His presence on the ring was imposing and commandeering, no matter the size of the opponent. He fought the hardest, most dangerous weight class, and he’d won the world’s lineal boxing title twice before the age of thirty. Three-times world champion in the regular championship. Yet, he was a man who’d been imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit, and the only grievance he had come out with was a deep distaste for the smell of tobacco. He was a damn weirdo who smiled like he was having the time of his life when he thought he’d have the lights choked out of him.

And then he had offered to coach him and was letting Levi in his place— _him_ , someone he barely knew aside from whatever Hange had told him about him—and offering him a drink.

“Tea, black,” Levi muttered, following him into the flat that stood above the gym. Erwin smiled and told him to sit on the couch, make himself comfortable, and disappeared into the kitchen. Levi would have sat stiffly on the couch if it weren’t so plush. And even though there was no need for them, he had pillows on that couch and the matching armchairs. Levi stared blankly at the tall bookshelves lining the large TV, set full of books. The coffee table was empty save for an oddly shaped essential oil burner that smelled like sandalwood. He had several houseplants by the large glass windows. Levi was inspecting the green oil burner when Erwin returned a while later with two mugs of tea and he straightened up. Erwin’s tea had milk.

Levi grabbed his mug. “Thanks,” he said when Erwin sat beside him on the couch, blowing on his tea.

“I got that in Thailand,” Erwin told him conversationally, gesturing towards his oil burner, “it’s an elephant with a lotus flower on its back,” he said, “I saw some elephants when I was training there. Never got to ride on one, though.”

Levi found that interesting and wanted to hear more. The thought made him freeze. He held his mug and didn’t move, staring at the steaming tea and seeing his eyes reflected on it. “I thought we were going to train.”

“And we are,” Erwin said, blinking at him.

“Why are we drinking tea, then?”

“To chat a little?” Erwin tried, smiling.

Levi rubbed his forehead with his free hand and huffed. “What makes you think I want to chat?”

“It’s not that I think you do, it’s that I want to,” Erwin said and blew on his tea with a smile, looking at him, “if I’m your cornerman, we need to get to know each other a bit better, don’t you think?”

Levi gripped his mug. He hadn’t given it that much thought. “You’ll be my cornerman,” he repeated.

“That’s exactly the plan,” Erwin said, smiling and give his tea a tentative sip, “I’ll be your cornerman, I’ve been looking into matches in your weight class already. The closest one is in two months. It’s nothing big, we just want to get your name out there. Though,” he continued and sniffed, “as I said to you, if you’re training with me, you’ll climb quickly,” he made a face,” for good and for bad, I’m afraid. We need to work hard and fast,” he said, “because people will be waiting for you to be worthy of me retiring,” he smiled then, “but I’m not too worried there.”

Levi was better at listening than he was at talking, and hearing Erwin talk gave him time to think fully about what exactly all of that entailed. Erwin was already in the hall of fame for the best boxers of all time. Then there was the framing scandal and his imprisonment, which had so angered Levi, that for the first time in his life he’d sought out strangers to do something about it. And of course, this guy had people drooling for him all over the world. Levi still couldn’t believe someone had stolen his sweaty socks that night in the underground tournament.

“You didn’t retire because of me, asshole,” Levi said, angry, blowing in his tea and holding the mug with the tips of his fingers, sipping it, “don’t put that on me, I’m the last fucking bastard who’d want that.”

Erwin was quiet, looking at him. “You do know we’d never have a real chance of fighting against each other in an official fight, don’t you?”, he asked him, a bit concerned, “Our weight class is very far apart, if I tried to drop down to yours, I’d die,” he sipped on his tea, “I knew men who died because they tried to do things like that.”

Levi felt heat creep up onto his cheeks and almost dropped the mug in his anger. “Are you calling me dumb? Of course, I know that!” he exclaimed, “I know those stories. Those bastards who pull out their teeth to lose a few grams and chop off toes. The motherfucker who somehow stayed alive on crackers and tea and still fought,” he enumerated angrily, “that’s not what I’m pissed about. I’d never want you to drop to my weight class.”

“Then why does it bother you so much that I’m retiring? I won’t stop fighting,” Erwin said with a shrug, sipping on his tea, “if that night wasn’t enough proof of that. I just don’t want to do it officially anymore.”

Levi angrily drank his tea, which was still a little too hot, and had him wincing. The pain helped clear his mind. “As long as you keep fighting, then,” he grunted, dodging the real reason it upset him.

“I will,” Erwin said, “and I’m excited to have you as a sparring partner,” he smiled, “I’ll be teaching you everything I know.”

Levi sighed a little and then snorted. “I thought you’d be different.”

“That seems to be a recurrent theme with people who meet me after having formed an opinion about me,” Erwin said and chortled, putting his empty mug on the table, “how did you think I’d be?”

Levi hated that he was asking him direct questions in his friendly tone. “I thought you wouldn’t be a weirdo, for one,” he said and almost smiled when Erwin chortled and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “and I didn’t think your house would look like this.”

“I like my comfort,” Erwin smiled, “I’ve learnt to appreciate it while I was locked up.”

Levi clucked his tongue and drank the rest of his tea. “And you don’t have coasters,” he grunted, wiping the bottom of his mug on his jeans before putting it down on the timber coffee table, “at least it’s clean… sort of,” he said looking under the table where he’d piled up several magazines, mostly sports-related, and a thin layer of dust was forming on them. Levi picked up the issue of _Men’s Health_ that had come out one month after they released Erwin from prison.

“That’s a bit awkward,” Erwin scrunched his nose as Levi dusted it with the back of his hand, “Hange set me up for it, they always set me up for things like that.”

“That’s their job since they’re your manager… and lawyer,” Levi muttered, staring at the cover that was taken up by him, shimmering under a layer of probably boxer’s grease and looking at the camera with a terrifying smile. The main article was titled _‘Fighting in Prison: the testimony of world heavyweight boxing champion Erwin ‘The Commander’ Smith’_ “you really look different in person.”

Erwin chortled as Levi put the magazine back on the pile. “I’m taking that you mean l look better in pictures,” Erwin said.

Levi scoffed. “I mean that nobody would think you’re the type of guy who likes his tea with a ton of milk,” he said and huffed, “are you happy with the chatting now? I want to train.”

“Let’s go down, then,” Erwin said, picking up the mugs and getting up, “I’ll just go change. You can change downstairs if you like.”

Levi nodded and got up, getting his sports bag, and flinging it over his shoulder.

* * *

**II. Breathing**

* * *

Erwin put on sweatpants and a sleeveless top. Levi’s attire wasn’t much different, but he went for shorts instead. The gym smelled fresh and new, and Levi could tell it’d never been used before Erwin told him it’d be opening in two weeks because his friend was taking care of the flyers. People would get discounts on their first month if they brought in a flyer. Levi didn’t ask for the information, but Erwin was a chatty bastard.

“Why would you need flyers, though?” Levi asked as they stretched on the mats and Erwin told him about his gym, “you have over 3 million followers on Instagram.”

“An old friend of mine owns an advertising company,” Erwin explained, as he wrapped his wrists and hands with tape, “and he’s got his second child on the way.”

“Oh,” Levi muttered, but then, “so you’re just giving your friend money?” he looked at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t take it otherwise,” Erwin said with a grin, “I had to threaten to tell his wife that he’s been smoking behind her back to get him to take it,” he looked at Levi and smiled, “you’re smiling.”

Levi shook his head and snorted. “I never thought someone could be an asshole while being nice. I bet your friend was thrilled with it.”

Erwin scrunched his nose and got more boxing tape from his pocket, walking over to Levi. “He’s tense about the baby, Marie isn’t having an easy pregnancy,” he said vaguely and changed the subject, seeing that Levi didn’t see what he wanted to do, “let me tape your hands. This’ll be the first lesson. It’s more effective when someone else does it for you,” he told him, and his tone shifted along with the subject. Levi could see at last the man he’d imagined he’d be.

Levi looked up at him but stretched his hands to let him do it. “I know how to do that.”

“I’m teaching you the Muay Thai way, it’s better than the boxing way, which is what you do, short wraps, not going between the fingers,” he told him as the tightly wrapped the tape around his wrists, his hands, and finally his fingers. Levi had seen him wrap his hands like that when they fought that night, but he’d been too on edge to focus on it, “it gives you a lot more stability to do it this way and it protects your hands a lot more. Hands are fragile and you can’t afford to tear the tendons or smash the bones,” Erwin told him, smacking his hands when he was done, “I need to know exactly what you know before I start. We’re focusing on boxing, but you got bad habits from your imperfect training. And I don’t think you want to drop MMA completely,” Erwin smiled a little. Levi nodded, “if anything because that’s the only way we can fight against each other evenly.”

Levi snorted. “Yeah, I’m not dropping MMA. And I know the styles you know,” he said and clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the unfamiliar stability. He punched his fists against one another and felt the extra padding.

“Ah, I see,” Erwin acknowledged, “that’s perfect, then.”

“Yeah,” Levi said, sniffing, “I wonder how I never smashed my hands,” he muttered, and Erwin snorted.

“Tough bones, probably, smart fighting, definitely,” Erwin said, smiling. Levi looked up at him, “that’s why I want to coax you into being a boxer,” he grinned. It confused Levi, “the best fighters are strategists,” Levi made a face, “don’t misunderstand me. You’re rough around the edges when it comes to technique, but you’ve got brains,” he pointed at his own forehead, “and that’s the fighter’s biggest weapon, more so than the fists,” he said, “and boxing requires discipline and focus. And no blows under the belt, it’s all about the upper body. That’s where you excel,” Erwin said, “when I say I thought I was done when you restrained my movements, I mean it. You have a vice-like grip,” he praised, “so let’s start with Jiu-Jitsu.”

The thing about fighting is that it doesn’t take one long before they’re winded if they don’t know how to breathe. Levi had an instinctive grasp on how to breathe while fighting, but against a fighter like Erwin, he felt like a fish pulled out of the water, gasping for air when he was put in submission. Whereas Erwin let himself be held before exploding out of the grip.

“You can’t hold your breath,” Erwin repeated for the third time as Levi gasped on his hands and knees, getting angrier by the minute, “let’s take two to hydrate,” Erwin said getting the water bottles and passing one over. Levi grabbed it and drank, sitting on the mat. At least they were both covered in sweat. This guy at least sweated as other humans did. Levi combed back his sweaty hair and huffed, “also try not to let your emotions get to you,” Erwin said draining the bottle and throwing it in the bin, “I know it’s frustrating to get overpowered over and over, I’ve been there. It’s easier said than done, but a cool head goes a long way.”

“I fucking know that,” Levi grunted, crumpling the bottle and standing up to bin it, “how the fuck am I supposed to breathe with an arm around my neck, though? You exhale as you jab,” he demonstrated and Erwin nodded, “but I don’t fucking know how to do that when I’m trapped in a submission position.”

“How do you breathe?” Erwin asked simply.

“How do I breathe?” Levi asked as if the man was crazy, “With my mouth and nose like everyone else. Do you see any gills?” He showed him the sides of his reddened neck and patting them for emphasis, “What kind of stupid question is that?”

Erwin chortled and touched the middle of his own chest. “I’m asking if your breathing is coming from here or if it’s shallow,” he clarified.

Levi touched the middle of his own chest and made a face. “What do you mean? Breath comes from the lungs,” he said and Erwin palmed his stomach, which made him flinch because it was sudden, “what?”

“Breathe,” Erwin told him. Levi looked up at him like he was mad, “deeply, yes.”

Levi breathed deeply as if he was at the doctor. Only his chest moved. “Like that?”

“Not quite,” Erwin said, “I’m going to constrict your throat now, be ready,” he said stepping behind him, still with a hand on his stomach, putting the other arm around his neck. Levi didn’t use his diaphragm to breathe and struggled. Erwin let go, “we need to fix that. You have it down when it comes to punching, but this is something that needs practice. I won’t expect you to master it today, but that’s what we’ll focus on today.”

Levi huffed but agreed to it. He was a patient fighter, and he was a patient learner. If this man told him he needed to do that, he did it without questioning it. Of course, Erwin was right to focus on that. Levi found that it was harder than it looked when Erwin demonstrated. The stomach was the only part that was supposed to move when you breathed because it had to come from the diaphragm. He could mimic it, but he kept falling back into his old habit. Erwin was a patient instructor and when he saw that Levi was frustrated, he randomly started singing an opera song in a deep, booming voice that echoed through the empty gym. Levi looked at him, shocked, and watched him laugh.

“This is also how singers breathe,” Erwin said and grinned, “oh, you didn’t know I was a singer? I thought you’d been following my career.”

Levi opened his mouth and then closed it, feeling warmth creep onto his cheeks. “Who says I have?” he asked, miffed.

“Why else would you want to fight me? And why else would you be mad that I’m retiring?” Erwin asked, smiling, “And your reaction when you saw a different side of me,” Erwin said and winked.

Levi dropped the act at last and lost his cool. “Yeah, so I’ve been following your career. That’s not shocking, is it? I’m a fighter and you’re the best of the best. Never lost a damn official match. Never a wrong move on the ring. Lots of people look up to you,” he told him, clenching his taped fists, “I’m not that young anymore, either. If I want to make it to the top, it has to be now.”

“Oh, I didn’t ask how old you were,” Erwin said with a smile, putting the praise on standby.

“I’m 28,” Levi said flatly, “just four years younger than you are.”

“That explains why you sound like an old, grumpy man,” Erwin said lightly and chortled. Levi pursed his lips, “I’m sorry.”

Levi huffed and shook his head. “No need to apologise, I know I look younger than I am,” he said, “but that doesn’t take the years off my back.”

“Off your back? You move faster than most younger fighters,” Erwin said, tilting his head to the side, “and your posture is perfect.”

“Not my literal back,” Levi said and huffed, checking the clock on the wall. They’d been practising for over three hours. It was past 6 pm, “oh shit, fuck. Fuck, I lost track of time.”

“You have somewhere to be?” Erwin asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, my job,” he said getting up, “that kind of rat fight doesn’t pay the bills, no matter how good you are. You should know that,” he said and clucked his tongue, “shit I’m sweating like a pig,” he looked down at his sweaty clothes, “but whatever, my job’s dirty, anyway.”

“Levi,” Erwin called after him, getting up and catching up to him as he reached the front door of the gym, “I don’t have your number. To let me know when you’re available?”

“Ask Hange, I don’t have time to give it to you now,” he said, then, “I work most nights after 7 pm, so I’m free before that all day,” he told him.

“Alright,” Erwin said, holding the door open, “see you later, then.”

“Later, thanks for today,” Levi said hastily, and Erwin saw him run through the crowd of people, probably coming back from work before closing the door.

It’d been a good training session, Erwin thought, happy, walking to the punching bag. He’d get some lifting training done before going for his evening jog and finally showering, eating, and sitting down on his couch with an old film. They were relaxing and fun, perfect to unwind. Especially the ones featuring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

Hange called him when he posted a picture of himself sitting shirtless by his houseplants on his Instagram.

“You’re learning!” they said as a greeting, “With hashtags and everything!” they praised.

Erwin chortled, sat on the couch with ‘ _Follow the Fleet’_ , a film from 1936 that he’d watched at least a handful of times. “I was misting the plants and thought it’d look alright,” he said.

“It does!” Hange said, “How did the training with Levi go?”

“Fantastic,” Erwin said, smiling at the picture, fuzzy on his big TV, “he’s a quick learner,” then he paused, “can you send me his number? He had to leave for his job, and I only remembered then. He told me to ask you.”

“Ah, sure,” Hange said nonchalantly, “hang on,” they said, and a moment later Erwin got a text with the number, “did you get it?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “I’ll save it when we hang up,” he paused, then, “is there anything I need to know about Levi?” he asked, “Let me clarify,” he said when he heard Hange make that noise, “I don’t want you to go snooping into his personal life,” he said and Hange sighed, “yeah, that’s not relevant. I can tell what kind of man he is,” he said, “I just want to know if you can tell me why he went ballistic when he was put in the clinch.”

“The what?” Hange asked.

Right, they didn’t know. “When he’s held from the front and his movements are partially restrained,” he explained, “close-quarters fighting. That move that looks like a hug,” he added, and Hange made a noise of recognition, “Yes, when that Johnson bloke put him in the clinch, Levi messed him up so bad, I thought he’d kill him.”

“Ah, that,” Hange acknowledged, “I really don’t know, but whenever I’ve seen them do that to him, that was the outcome. It’s like he becomes a different person.”

Erwin hummed, musing and looking at dancers on the screen. “That’s going to be a problem,” he said quietly, “it’s fine in MMA, but in boxing, it isn’t. He can’t use his elbows or legs there.”

“That I know,” Hange said, “you look into that,” they said, “I have a baby to attend to. Mobsy tried to make a souffle, but it deflated like a sad little balloon. He’s been sulking for over an hour, trying to understand what he did wrong.”

Erwin chortled. “Go take care of him, then,” he said, “goodnight.”

“Night!”

Erwin hung up and saved the number they’d sent him and pushed the clinch subject to the back of his mind for the time being. He wondered if Levi had an Instagram account, but he wouldn’t follow him if he did, because he knew some fans might go snooping. He looked for his name and there was only one result. It had no posts or a profile picture, and it was no doubt that it was him because his following list was just fighters. Erwin smiled when he saw himself on the list. He put the phone aside and ignored the engagement on his post and focused on his favourite vintage dancing duo, but couldn’t make it to the end. He turned off the TV and went to bed, wondering what kind of dirty job Levi did at night that it didn’t matter that he was soaked in sweat to do it.

* * *

**III. The clinch and what it felt like to him**

* * *

Erwin didn’t ask what Levi’s job was until they were already one week and a half into their daily training. He worked at the docks, carrying things and fixing machinery. It kept him fit while paying the bills, he told him sarcastically.

The gym would open soon, and the flyers were already circulating. Erwin had posted on his Instagram about it at last and said that everyone with a flyer would get a discount.

Levi was about as eager to be coached as Erwin was to coach. And Erwin was thrilled at how fast Levi was catching up to him. He wasn’t surprised that he’d mastered how to breathe effectively in all of three days. He was focused and had the heart of a fighter. And that was the most important in a fighter after a cool head—a heart ablaze with the desire to fight. The reason didn’t matter. It was about winning, at the end of the day. Some weirdoes, as Levi had called him, fought just because it was fun, but people had all sorts of reasons to fight. Erwin didn’t know what Levi’s reason was, but he didn’t think it mattered until it did.

“You need to learn how to be in the clinch,” Erwin told him that afternoon, “it’s crucial in boxing, and if you master the clinch and learn to use it strategically, you’ll be unbeatable.”

Levi gripped the water bottle he’d been drinking from and gulped. “It’s not that important anymore, in boxing, I read about it,” he told him, clenching his jaw.

“You’ve seen me fight, haven’t you?” Erwin asked in return.

“I have,” Levi said, frowning.

“Mastering the clinch is the reason I was never defeated,” Erwin told him, and meant it, “heavyweight goes from 91kg to however heavy you are. I had to fight guys that looked like monsters, and won every time,” he reasoned, tone soft, “welterweights don’t have that danger, in general, but you’re considerably shorter than the average welterweight,” Levi glanced at him, Erwin was also looking at him, “you need to learn how to be in the clinch, Levi.”

Levi gripped the water bottle so tightly, some water spilt out. “What if I can’t do that?” he asked.

“I know you can,” Erwin said, smiling, but for the first time since they’d met, seeing Levi spring right to his feet after being knocked down, he saw him falter. He saw him worried.

“I can’t,” Levi muttered through gritted teeth, “I just can’t. Not if I can’t use my legs or elbows. I can’t.”

“Okay, how about this,” Erwin said, ignoring the worry, “I’ll put you in the clinch, and you can use your elbows and legs.”

Levi looked at him and breathed heavily. He sighed and nodded, despite the hesitation. “Fine, fine, let’s try that,” he said, uncertain.

“You can hit me as hard as you want,” Erwin told him as they got up from the sweaty mat, “and however you want.”

They were stood in front of each other, and Erwin knew what fear smelled like. It was a heavy kind of smell of sweat, muskier, full of adrenaline. “Ready?” he asked, out of courtesy.

Levi nodded, but it was a lie. “Do it,” he said, and Erwin saw him clench his fists. Erwin bent over and grabbed the back of Levi’s head, pulling it against his chest under his right shoulder, he pinched his elbows under his neck and put the other hand around his head, gripping the hand he had flat on his nape. He was pressed tightly against his chest. They were too close for effective punching, and Erwin felt Levi's breathing get faster and shallower. Levi kneed his thigh with all his might and tried to elbow his side, but Erwin endured the pain and when he had someone in the clinch, he won fights. Levi knew that, and he couldn’t get out of there.

“Let go,” he gasped, “please, please let go,” his voice came out choked and winded and he was barely struggling, “let go…”, Erwin didn’t know what was happening, but he let go and the moment he did, Levi dropped on his knees and collapsed on his side, curling up into himself, breathing too fast, his face twisted and covered in tears that Erwin hadn’t noticed were there because of the sweat. His heart sank as he knelt in front of him but didn’t touch him. He knew what a panic attack looked like. He’d seen guys have them in prison. But that wasn’t that kind of panic attack. That was a flashback.

“Levi, can you hear me?” he called, worried, regretting doing it like that, “You’re safe with me. You’re not there, you’re here. Remember where you are,” he said, soothing, “focus on my voice and breathe the way I taught you. This is a gym, I’m Erwin Smith, and I’m coaching you on how to fight. You’re a 28-year-old man, they call you The Captain in the Underground, with all the crooked cops betting money and letting it happen,” he said, watching his expression soften after almost five minutes. His breathing evened, but he was still lying on his side, his loose fists near his drenched face.

“I’m pathetic,” he choked out, voice hoarse, trying to clench his hands, “I can’t feel my hands,” he groaned and gritted his teeth, trying to get up.

“Can I help you up?” Erwin asked, voice quiet.

Levi looked at him in the eyes. “Don’t you think this is pathetic?” he mumbled.

“No,” Erwin said and meant it, “can I help you sit down?”

Levi fixed his eyes on him and then nodded slowly. Erwin put his arms around his waist and helped him sit down, sitting beside him and holding him around the waist. Levi leant his head against his shoulder and scoffed, wiping his eyes with a trembling hand.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “this is the absolute fucking worst,” he gritted his teeth.

“I don’t think any less of you for it, Levi,” Erwin promised, and meant it, “look at me,” he asked, and Levi did, though his eyes were puffy and red, “my opinion of you hasn’t changed. Whatever happened to you, you survived. You’re here and you’re fighting,” he said, and Levi scrunched his face, “you’re a prideful man, you feel humiliated, I get it. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that without asking for reasons.”

“I wouldn’t have told you,” Levi said, and the anger was back, that was good, “I would have died before telling you that I’m a disgusting guy.”

Erwin had heard something similar before and his chest tightened. “I promise you that you’re not, no matter what happened to you,” he said softly, “I won’t demand to hear what happened, but if you don’t want to practice the clinch, I understand.”

Levi sniffled and wiped his eyes, getting away from him, his expression shifting. “No, I want to master the clinch. You said it was important,” he said, still hoarse, “and I know you’re right. I’ll keep practising with you.”

Erwin smiled, hopeful. “That’s great news,” he said, getting up and reaching his hand to help Levi to his feet. He took the hand and swayed a bit but didn’t fall, “the point is really that you learn how to do it to me, but I have to do it to you first,” he said, changing the subject as if nothing had happened. Levi was thankful for that and smiled faintly, “all you have to say is ‘ _stop_ ’, and I’ll stop,” Erwin said simply. He got a whey protein energy bar from the cupboard where he kept the water and the Gatorade, “eat this, you need your energy back.”

“Thanks,” Levi said, unwrapping it with tingly fingers and biting into it. It tasted like chocolate, “it’s nice, this.”

They called it a day after that, and Levi didn’t complain when Erwin sat down and chatted about random things while he slowly ate that energy bar and chased it down with Gatorade. Levi found that Erwin’s voice was soothing, his tone was gentle, and he got excited about mundane things. He talked about his houseplants and how they were thriving after he’d gotten a gardening book and learnt how to care for them. Now he had a bonsai and a handbook to care for it. Levi snorted, imagining this guy with his bonsai. It wasn’t hard anymore. That was just the type of man he was. On the ring, he was unrivalled and dangerous. Off the ring, he was just a man with nothing but kindness in his eyes, who liked his houseplants, read a lot, and enjoyed old films. Erwin fought because it was fun, Levi fought for power. It wasn’t for the fun, but it’d been Erwin’s pure love for fighting when he was 16 and Levi was all but 12, on that grungy underground ring that made Levi decide that he would fight, too. Nobody would hurt him anymore if he could beat them all up as Erwin did. He was a fighter, too. A different kind but a fighter was a fighter, no matter their reason to fight. And that day, he decided that he’d win that fight, no matter what.

* * *


	4. The Sweet Science

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of domestic abuse.
> 
> I'm perishing on the hill of everything I did here. I just want to say that the Eren and Reiner story is both inspired by Columbo's art (that's linked on the first chapter's notes) and mildly inspired by Katrina Rice's fic 'Delirious'. The type of job Reiner is doing and their radioactive relationship. In this fic, toxic Eren isn't working there. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been leaving comments, kudos, and bookmarking this. I'm reading all the comments and I'm sorry for not replying, I just really don't know what to say. I'm just thankful (and saving all the email notifications like a kid hoarding candy). As I said, the fic's written, but since it's so long, I decided to post it slower. I've already gone over it a couple of times to get rid of the most glaring mistakes and typos and since I'm posting slower, I hope I don't miss a lot of them. I hope you like this chapter, too.

* * *

**I. Fighting doesn’t need important reasons, but sometimes they matter**

* * *

Erwin’s gym was popular. Unsurprisingly, the first people to come in were fans. Levi was frustrated for the entirety of the two weeks it took those people to realise that if they were training there, they would be training hard and they would be learning. That settled Erwin’s real motives for opening a gym—teach people how to fight. That’s when the people who wanted to learn came in. Levi’s coaching was changed for the mornings when the gym was closed for the public. He stayed there in the afternoons with them, mostly to shadowbox and workout and he saw the kind of people who really wanted to learn how to fight. Most of them were skinny boys and women who flinched when Erwin corrected their posture. Women who feared men but were willing to learn how to fight from one. And Erwin was exactly the kind of man who should teach people how to fight against the men who terrified them. He was bigger and stronger than any of them, and he willingly let himself be thrown on the mat to motivate them. Levi saw his smile and those people’s swelling confidence, and he understood at last. His bitterness over his retirement felt like something from a different life. There was a reason they called fighting, especially boxing, the sweet science of bruising and it had everything to do with what Erwin wanted to do there.

And there were many reasons why people fought. The most common ones were power, confidence, and to protect themselves and others. But the best fighters were always the ones who fought because it was fun for them. They didn’t have deep reasons. They just enjoyed a good brawl. The fighters who had the most fun were always winners, with or without titles. Because victory for them was in the fight itself. Levi envied Erwin for it, wondering if he could ever be like that.

* * *

And their clinch practice was hard but ultimately paid off.

The first week of it was rough and Levi had to yell ‘stop’ several times, but it wasn’t as bad as the first time, because they had boundaries and Erwin was true to his word. He respected his boundaries, and he’d only hold him in the clinch for as long as he could take it. Levi started trusting him then. And Erwin helped him beat his last enemy.

“Stop!” Levi yelled one day, almost a month later, and Erwin immediately let go. Levi stepped back and breathed heavily, closing his eyes and covering his face.

“That was good,” Erwin praised, “you were there for a whole minute, that’s a new record,” he said softly, “are you okay?”

Levi nodded behind his covered face. Then he uncovered it and looked fiercely into his eyes. “Do it again.”

Erwin smiled and nodded, trying for a different angle, one from the side, and an easier one to get out of. Levi gritted his teeth and for the first time, he was able to get out of there without flailing, doing it the way Erwin had patiently taught him. Swim his arms through the gaps and use explosive force to get out of it. Erwin was so happy and so proud he held him by the shoulders with tears in his eyes.

“You did it, Levi!” he exclaimed, “You beat it!”

“Why are you crying, goddammit?” Levi asked, snorting and wiping his own eyes.

“Why are _you_?” Erwin asked back with a toothy grin so bright it was almost too dazzling. Levi felt overwhelmed and giddy, “You’re finally ready to learn how to get me in the clinch and not let me escape.”

Levi snorted. “You’re really the weirdest fucking guy,” he said, but his voice was mild, “who the fuck likes to lose?”

“It’s not the losing part that’s fun, it’s knowing you have a worthy opponent to fight in the future,” he told him with a grin and sighed before releasing a noise of joy that sounded like a scream, “I can’t wait to fight you again! We can practice with gloves now, too!”

Levi looked at him and shook his head, but his heart was beating so fast he thought it’d be heard. He’d beat it, and he didn’t know how to thank Erwin for being so patient with him. For respecting his boundaries and not giving up on him. The only way he could thank him for that was by making him proud and winning. And he’d do that or die trying.

* * *

Erwin talked him into going out for a couple of drinks with him that night, since he didn’t have to go to work, and he couldn’t say no. They weren’t drunk but they were tired, and Levi just asked.

“What’s it like to have so much fun while fighting?”

Erwin smiled at him. “It’s like having fun doing anything else you like doing. I don’t have a good answer for that,” he told him and rolled up his sleeves, yawning and stretching on the park bench where they’d sat to drink, “but I hope that one day you’ll fight for fun too,” he said with a small smile, “I guess I enjoy a bit of pain with my fun.”

Levi snorted and shook his head. “Odd guy,” he muttered into his beer, “I don’t think I can fight like that,” he said, staring at the pavement, “but it’s good to know that I was right.”

Erwin didn’t get what he was saying but put an arm around him pulling him towards him, smiling. “I’m a stubborn bastard,” he said, “I’ll have so much fun while fighting with you, that you’ll have no choice but to have fun, too,” he said, light-hearted and playful, “just out of spite.”

Levi chuckled and glanced at him. “Having fun out of spite,” he echoed, “what a stupid thing to say,” he said, and Erwin laughed.

The truth was that it sounded like his kind of logic-doing things out of spite-but he didn’t know if he could have that kind of fun. Not the pure, unbridled fun Erwin had. But it was contagious, Erwin’s energy, and he couldn’t deny it was affecting him more than he’d like.

* * *

**II. The fighter brides**

* * *

Levi knew that Erwin and Historia Reiss were close, but he was a bit surprised when he saw that girl come in one day in the morning while they were having their coaching session. She greeted Erwin like he was her father. In all honesty, somebody who didn’t know their age difference might have mistaken them for father and daughter.

“I’m glad you took my invitation, Historia,” Erwin said, smiling, “And who might this young lady be?”

“Ymir,” she introduced her and then breathed heavily before smiling, “my future wife.”

Ymir showed off her engagement band with a little grin as Historia showed her own.

“Oh,” Erwin beamed brightly, “congratulations!” He pulled both girls into a hug that left Ymir a bit surprised but ultimately made her laugh.

“No wonder she said you were the closest thing she had to a dad,” Ymir said, smiling up at Erwin, as Historia blushed, “makes me feel bad, wish I could have come in and asked for her hand in marriage,” she teased. Historia gasped and elbowed her side. Ymir just laughed, “I’m joking. We just want to invite you to the wedding, and a plus one, if that’s the case.”

Erwin smiled and looked at Historia, with such fondness and care that Levi felt like some men are just born to be dads, even if they have no kids of their own. “I’m more than happy to be there, Historia,” he said.

“She also wants you to walk her down the aisle!” Ymir chirped because Historia was too embarrassed to say anything herself. It was just like a daughter telling her dad she was getting married. Erwin’s eyes were glossy with emotion, even.

“Only if you want to do that…” Historia said quietly, “I’d like it since I don’t have any family.”

Erwin rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and chortled. “I’d be honoured to do that,” he said.

“And who’s walking you down the aisle?” Levi asked Ymir who was about as left out in that conversation as he was. Ymir shrugged.

“I don’t know yet, I don’t need that,” she said and meant it, “it’s important to her, not to me. I had no family to begin with.”

Levi looked up at her and shrugged. “Sucks,” he said.

“Yeah, kinda, but it’s alright, I’ll have a wife and we have the kids at the orphanage to have picnics with,” she said mildly, “it’s alright here, I’m happy.”

Levi smiled a little and nodded, watching Erwin chat with Historia about her charity work. “You’re going to train here, too?”

“I guess, maybe some Muay Thai,” Ymir said with a shrug, “I fight in the chicks brawl side of the underground, and I know who you are,” she smiled at him, “you’re the captain. You’re the best out of your scummy lot,” she said with a grin, “we got Annie and Mikasa on our side. They would sweep the floor with some of the scum that fights on yours.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Levi said, “the men’s side is full of garbage.”

“Come on over to watch sometime,” Ymir said, “we’ve got pretty girls there,” she smiled, “but it doesn’t seem like you’ve got any interest in that.”

Levi was watching Erwin and saw him crouch to let Historia take a selfie of them both, smiling at the camera. He didn’t pay attention to what Ymir was saying. “Yeah, sometime,” he said vaguely.

They beckoned Ymir over to take a picture with the three of them.

“Want me to do that?” Levi offered, watching them struggle to get a good angle because of the size difference.

“If you’d be so kind,” Historia said meekly, passing him her phone. Levi walked back and took a picture of the three of them, with Erwin in the middle, with one arm around each of the girls and Ymir reaching her arm all the way up to give him bunny ears with a cheeky grin.

* * *

**III. Fear of the faux devil**

* * *

And it was because Levi saw that Erwin filled people with confidence in themselves, that he brought in a kid who worked with him at the docks. Reiner Braun was a 22-year-old boy who’d started working with Levi about a year and a half ago. He was a big boy, as tall as Erwin, and bulky. They had him do a lot of heavy lifting around there because he was ridiculously strong. But Levi saw the sadness in his eyes.

Levi wasn’t one to pry and wouldn’t have pried, if he hadn’t seen the colour drain from Reiner’s face one night when another kid, a scraggly mess of a kid with long hair and demonic tattoos showed up there, making a racket so loud in his shitty car with a busted exhaust pipe, that the foreman came out to see what was happening. Reiner hid in the shed. Levi got to the kid in the car before the foreman could and dragged his drunk ass out of it through the open window and dumped him on the dusty floor.

“Listen here, you piece of shit,” he snarled at him, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt, “this is a place where people work. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here, but if I catch your sorry ass here out here again, drunk or not, you’ll be sleeping underwater.”

“Should be ‘ _you’ll be sleeping with the fishes’_ ,” the drunken bastard cackled. Levi pulled his arm back and backhand slapped his face full force. The kid’s face turned to the side so fast, it looked like he’d snapped his neck. That made him stop laughing and stare at him like he was seeing what the devil looked like for the first time. Levi readied his hand again and saw the kid flinch.

“Learn some fucking manners. That was your first and only warning, brat,” Levi spat, letting go of him, “get the fuck out of here.”

The kid scrambled to his feet and got back in the car. He drove off so fast the cloud of dust shimmered green in the docks’ dim light. He told the foreman it was just a drunk kid trying to be funny, and they got some of those sometimes, so it stuck. But when he found Reiner still hidden in the shed, he confronted him.

“Why the fuck are you scared of that scrawny twat?” he asked the kid who’d slowly gotten to his feet, “You’re twice his size.”

“Levi…” the kid muttered, “did you get rid of him?”

“Of course, I did,” Levi said, crossing his arms, “then?”

Reiner slouched and wrung his hands together. “He’s… he’s my ex.”

Levi gave him a dead stare, not wanting to believe his ears. “You have fucking horrible taste in men, kid,” he said flatly, “that doesn’t explain why you’re hiding out here when you could make him bite the dust.”

Reiner gulped and hesitated but told him. “He tried to frame me for murder… and I’m still on probation,” he mumbled, “they couldn’t find conclusive proof that it’d been me, but he made it seem like it was me.”

“He killed someone and is trying to frame you?”

“Bert isn’t dead, but he’s in an induced coma… he ran him over with his car,” he said, lowering his voice even more, “I don’t know if he did it on purpose, I don’t think he did. He just drinks a lot.”

Levi slapped him too, but with his palm. Not hard enough to hurt. Reiner gasped, holding his cheek and blinking. “Don’t make excuses for him, you idiot, you just fucking said he framed you for it. Why the fuck did you get with his sorry ass, anyway? There’s surely better dick out there,” Levi complained, and Reiner blushed to the tips of his ears, “Tell you what,” he said and huffed, “I know a good lawyer. You’ll clean your name. Then you’re coming with me and I’m introducing you to this guy I know.”

* * *

Bert awoke from his coma and was told he’d be fine after physiotherapy. He remembered the accident and said that it hadn’t been Reiner and he didn’t see the driver. Reiner’s ex got in trouble for lying but got away with a warning because he alleged that he’d been drunk and mistook the driver. Hange wanted to put the blame on that bastard, but Reiner said he didn’t want that. During the trial, the asshole kept stealing glances at him, and Reiner was shaking the whole time, but they’d ultimately cleaned his name and the case was closed. That’s when Levi dragged him to Erwin’s gym and introduced them.

“My coach, Erwin Smith,” Levi said flatly, “and this stupid kid who works with me, Reiner Braun.”

Erwin reached his hand to shake Reiner’s with a smile. Reiner’s shake was weak and wary. “Nice to meet you, Reiner,” Erwin said, “you’re a heavyweight, aren’t you?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Reiner said quietly, “I have no idea.”

“You’re over 91kg, right?”

“Ah, yes, I am,” Reiner nodded, and Erwin grinned.

“That’s heavyweight, then. We’re in the same weight class,” he said, “Levi told me you need a confidence boost because of a guy who keeps pestering you. Hange told me all about it, too, we’ve got one more thing in common,” he smiled, “though I was actually in prison.”

“You were?” Reiner asked, shocked, “Wait… I’ve seen you on the cover of _Men’s Health,_ you’re the world boxing champion,” he said, mouth agape.

“Yeah, I know,” Erwin told him, hearing Levi snort, “I’m pretty good, if I do say so myself,” Erwin said, glancing at Levi and watching him give him a judging smile. But Levi knew he’d made the right decision. That kid was in good hands.

* * *

**IV. The first fight and the beginning of the goddamn pictures’ hell**

* * *

Levi was just a fortnight away from his first boxing fight. He had been succeeding in putting Erwin in submission and preventing him from getting out of it, and that alone filled him with such pride, he could barely contain it. He was so close to being able to beat him. Then one sunny morning, after he’d been successfully restrained and grinned like the absolute nutjob he was, Erwin asked him if he’d mind giving him a hand with the instructing.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Positive,” Erwin said and smiled, “you’re a complete fighter now. And that could be your job, you know, I happen to be quite wealthy at the minute,” he said, “and I could really use a hand here. Especially with the Jiu-Jitsu.”

“You want me to train Historia and those other women?” he asked.

“Yeah, you’re closer to their height,” he said, “and you’re better at Jiu-Jitsu than I am now, you can trap me in the clinch, too,” he said proudly, then his expression shifted and combed back his damp hair with his fingers, “and I’m tired of that particular class,” he confessed, sighing, “please, Levi.”

Levi had noticed how upset he was in those classes, and he also knew why. It was full of women and while none of them thought Erwin was a threat, their husbands did. Levi saw the fuckers loitering outside, peeking through the windows of the gym which were wide open for anybody to see what was happening inside, and giving Erwin the dirty eye. Levi had heard them talking amongst themselves that they didn’t see any reason why “their women” should be there other than to be all over that “motherfucker”. They were perfectly safe with them, they didn’t need to learn how to fight.

No reason, yeah. No fucking reason. Levi had seen the bruises on their arms. Sometimes their eyes, the choking marks on their necks. And it was infuriating to see that they didn’t say anything, but it was good that they wanted to learn how to fight and chose the best martial art for their physique.

“I’ll do it, I’ll take the job,” Levi said at last nodding, “I’m teaching them how to punch, too. I know it’s Jiu-Jitsu, but I’m teaching those women how to throw a good punch.”

Erwin smiled mirthlessly. “You see it too, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Levi muttered.

It was a bit better after Levi started training them because those assholes didn’t see him as the same kind of threat as Erwin. Little did they know that he was stealthily whispering the secrets of knife-wielding when they weren’t looking. And the most rewarding bit was that they were thankful for it.

* * *

The day of Levi’s first real boxing competition was finally there and three days before it, Erwin told him he should rest, let his body heal so that he could be at peak condition on the day of the match. Levi wasn’t nervous about it. It wasn’t a big competition, lots of amateurs would be there, but it’d be his first public appearance as Erwin’s fighter. And Hange had agreed that they should advertise it properly.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked Hange when the three of them got together for brunch that morning.

“I mean that you have to set up a proper Instagram profile,” they said, “with photos of yourself at the gym, and then take a picture with Erwin to advertise the fight and make it bigger than it is,” they told him with a mouthful of pancakes.

“It’s not a big deal,” Moblit commented mildly, “but if Erwin’s there, it will be.”

“And it’s like that in the boxing world,” Hange added, “maybe you have a famous family, maybe you have money, or maybe you have a famous coach,” they said with a grin.

Levi frowned a bit, eating his bacon and sniffing, using the excuse that he was eating to think. Then he said, “Fine, I guess,” he said, “I don’t have pictures like that, though.”

“That’s easily arranged, we can take care of it this very afternoon,” Hange said with a grin, “I’m sorry, but I’m the manager, and I like to do things properly.”

Levi shrugged and finished his food. What else was there to do? They were right.

* * *

Levi was the furthest from a camera-friendly guy. He put on his fighting attire and let Hange and Moblit take his pictures with his phone to upload to the gram in a batch. Then he had to take one with Erwin, just the two of them, side by side like they were pals. Which they were, Levi wouldn’t admit it, but Erwin was the closest friend he’d ever had.

“A little smile, Levi?” Hange asked nicely. Levi gave them a look, “Okay, you mardy bum,” they clucked their tongue and let it be that way. Erwin was smiling proudly with one arm around Levi’s shoulders. Levi was glaring at the camera. That one was taken with Erwin’s phone, which had better quality than his did.

“Right, this will blow up your phone, so turn off the notifications before we do it,” Hange said and Levi huffed, doing as he was told, “so now you upload the pictures and add the caption ‘Getting ready #WingsOfFreedomGym #ErwinSmith #TheCommander #Boxing #Fighting #fighter #workout #muscles #gains’.”

Levi was typing down what he was told to type after adding 10 pictures but stopped on the last hashtags.

He shot Hange a look of absolute indignation. “Fucking muscles and gains? Do I look like a douchebag to you?”

Erwin chortled heartily, unable to speak.

“That’s what people look for,” Hange explained, “people are thirsty, Levi.”

“Then they should go suck someone else’s cock because mine isn’t available for them,” he blurted out with a huff, then “do I really have to type that?”

His friends were laughing, and Hange nodded. Levi cussed under his breath and type that shit down before uploading it. “Fucking done.”

“Right, don’t forget a profile picture as well. And follow the gym’s official page,” Hange said and turned to Erwin, “now you post the photo with Levi, tag him, and type whatever you like, you’re already good at it,” Erwin nodded with a smile and did as he was told.

“Done,” he said.

“Now you go to his page, like it, and post it on your profile,” Hange instructed.

Levi found the picture and gave Erwin a dirty look. “I’m the proud coach of this beautiful fighter, @leviackerman. Look forward to his fight on Sunday @BoxingBastards2021” he read and then the tags were where he lost his cool. Aside from the fighting related ones and the muscles and gains bullshit, he’d added #handsome #blackhairedhotguy and Levi felt his face heat up, “what the fuck, Erwin?”

“What?” Erwin asked, the innocent look he was faking not fooling anyone, “You are a hot guy with black hair.”

“Shut up,” Levi grunted, “fucking embarrassing.”

Hange yelled when they saw the tags and cackled wildly. “Oh my God! That’s perfect!”

“Why is it perfect!?” Levi asked, shoving his phone down his pocket.

“Do it for the gram, Levi,” Hange said with a grin, patting his shoulder, “it’ll pay off.”

Levi wondered how on God’s green fucking earth that shit would pay off but whatever. He’d just leave his notifications permanently turned off and ignore every single bloody comment. Why was everyone obsessed with social media these days? It was madness.

* * *

Hange was right, of course. The venue, which was just a gym in town, was packed full. Levi hated the attention and refused any attempts from interviewers to get a word out of him. It helped that Erwin was about as willing to give interviews as he was and pulled them away from them as quickly as possible, disappearing into the backrooms, where the other fighters were also getting ready with their cornermen. Erwin had brought in a sports bag as well. He had all the first aid stuff they could need along with Vaseline that he rubbed on his face to avoid cuts. In official matches, you can’t lube up completely. Then he got another bottle that he’d never seen before.

“A thing I got from Muay Thai,” Erwin said after Levi had changed into his boxer attire, shorts, and cup guard for his crotch. Erwin wrapped his hands and wrists tightly in tape and put the 12-oz gloves aside, “but it can be used for box as well,” Erwin smiled. Levi gasped when he felt that that oil was warm and smelled very minty. It stung a bit when Erwin started massaging his legs with it, then his stomach and chest and finally his arms, where he lost a bit of time. Their eyes met and Erwin smiled. Levi looked away and let him rub it on his back as well. “How does it feel?” Erwin asked, a little glint in his eye, “It’s not against the rules, it’s something that protects you from injuries, doesn’t leave you greasy.”

Levi felt like he’d warmed up completely, but he had spent no energy. He looked up at Erwin. “This is amazing,” he whispered, and Erwin winked, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Your first opponent is a total amateur, started fighting 6 months ago, he’s your weight but taller,” Erwin told him, tone serious. Levi nodded, feeling the slight nerves finally set in, “I’ll give you more on the others after you’re done with him,” he smiled confidently, “remember that this is boxing,” he said, helping him put on the 12-ounce gloves. Levi gave them a testing punch and nodded, “time the clinches. Remember that they can’t do much when you’ve got them there and you get to rest a bit. This is an amateur, it’s perfect for you to confirm that I was right about the clinch. You know a boxing fight can last up to 12 rounds, but you should be done in one for this one.”

“Okay,” Levi nodded, looking him in the eyes, “my fight’s the second, yeah?”

“Yeah, we can watch the first one,” Erwin said and get out of the backrooms and joined the crowd.

Levi was mildly disgruntled seeing the first match. They were both amateurs, too anxious and too reckless. One of them landed a straight jab directly in the other’s nose in the first 10 seconds, and then the other countered with a shitty uppercut. It was painful to watch, and when one of them won, the cheers were lukewarm at best.

“Remember what I said,” Erwin said as Levi climbed onto the ring, Erwin stood behind his corner, “you should be able to take him in one round,” then, quietly when Levi looked at him and threw him the robe with his gym’s name and the wings logo, he said, “go easy on him.”

Levi snorted and punched his fists together, assessing his opponent. Erwin had warned him about the guys in his weight class being mostly taller than him, and of course, he’d been right. This guy had to be around 6’feet tall. Levi saw him look at him like he had him. Oh, he knew the look. He had to focus, though. That wasn’t MMA. It was boxing, there wasn’t a testing round. You had to assess your opponent right off the bat. Levi looked into his eyes, defiant and then gave him a lopsided, taunting smile. The ref had them touch gloves and then they were on. Levi squared up, dominant foot ahead, his hands raised at face-level. The guy was reckless and not as quick as he was. His footwork sucked, too. Levi dodged the straight jabs he tried to slug, and it was easy to get inside and punch him on the liver side, full force. The guy stooped over, gasping and wincing.

“NO KNEES, LEVI,” Erwin yelled from his corner, “PUT HIM IN THE CLINCH! YOU HAVE HIM!”

Levi knew that but was thankful for the reminder because that was the first thought that crossed his mind. The guy wasn’t done slugging yet, and he tried for more jabs, but Levi got inside again and looped his arms around the guy’s head, putting him in a tight clinch, his head pressed hard against his shoulder. The guy struggled and tried to punch his sides, but that close they did almost zero, especially with gloves on. And he was angry, Levi could hear him hiss through his mouthpiece as he tried to get away from him. Levi took the chance to breathe, as Erwin had taught him. _You put them in the clinch, and you catch your breath._ When Levi let him go, the amateur lunged in, just as Erwin had said he would, but he was breathless, and Levi parried his jab and countered. He went inside again, crouched and covered his face, peek-a-boo style, and hit him with a combo of corkscrew punch and uppercut on the jaw. It was an instant KO. The guy did the “chicken dance” and fell like a log on the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers - proper ones - when the ref raised Levi’s fist. Erwin was beaming from the corner and he smiled back, pointing at him.

For the first time in his life, and even though his opponent was an amateur, Levi felt proud of winning when he saw Erwin smile proudly. Erwin hadn’t been overselling it. Those people were there to watch a fight, not a slugfest. Boxing was the most respectful and dignified martial art in the Western world. And Levi craved that respect and dignity.

* * *

**V. Their guardian angel and the almost seized up engine**

* * *

Levi winning the competition made the news the following day. It was all thanks to the fame Erwin brought along with him, but while expectations for Erwin’s student were high, Levi had shown them that they weren’t high enough. They didn’t know where Erwin had come from, where he’d started, and naturally didn’t know where Levi came from, either. All they knew was that he shared the same surname as the infamous Kenny Ackerman, the real culprit for the murder Erwin had been framed for.

And Levi wasn’t ashamed of his uncle, even though he was a merciless murderer. He’d taken him in when his mother died, and while he was unfit to be a parent, he wasn’t unfit to love. Levi didn’t think his uncle had loved him until he’d shown him. And he knew that Kenny Ackerman had loved Uri Reiss with everything he had. Levi remembered meeting Uri as a child, and he remembered his kind smile. Kenny had been Uri’s bodyguard and protegee. Levi understood the value of kindness. People like him and his uncle did. Uri had been aware that Kenny was a hitman with a high body count, but he’d accepted him anyway, and he’d trusted him to protect him. Kenny wasn’t a man without love, he was an unloved one. Until Uri came along.

So, when he was caught by the press and bombarded with questions about his relationship with Kenny Ackerman and they suggested that his uncle had killed Uri, Levi lost his mind. Erwin had pulled him away with Hange and Moblit’s help. Mike had shielded them when they dragged Levi away, livid and wanting nothing but to shove the mic down someone’s throat.

They got in Hange’s beat-up 1985 Mercedes Benz and sped off, a cloud of white smoke gassing the prying bastards. “Your car’s burning oil,” Mike said evenly from the back seat where he was sitting with Erwin and Levi.

“I know!” Hange said, “I’m taking it to you soon, too much stuff on my mind lately,” they complained, driving dangerously but fast.

Levi was quiet and didn’t complain when Erwin squeezed his arm for comfort. He just shook his head, staring out the window at the street zooming by.

“Are you okay?” Erwin asked, watching the lights of the street reflect on his face, “It takes a while to get used to it.”

“Yeah,” Hange agreed angrily, “they couldn’t shut up, could they? They think they’re invulnerable. They upset you! They don’t have the right to do that! They don’t!”

“That’s anti-ethical,” Mike said with his arms crossed, glancing at Levi, “what they do, pressuring people to talk, that’s not right.”

“And they were so fixed on talking about Kenny because Kenny won’t tell them shit,” Hange continued and shifted the gear. The noise was kind of scary. Mike stared at the gearshift, “I heard that he refused to tell them anything other than he killed all of the Reiss family,” they said, speeding down the avenue, “they had to restrain him when they tried to ask if he’d killed Uri as well.”

“It’s madness that they even let them talk to him in prison,” Moblit said, holding onto the handle over the door of the passenger’s side, “they already knew he hadn’t hurt Uri Reiss.”

Levi shifted in his seat, gritting his teeth, clenching his sore fists over his thighs. Hange shrieked when the car’s hood started smoking. They stopped the car. Mike was the first to jump out of the car when they stopped it by the side of the street by a small convenience store. Levi sighed and leant against his seat, not too bothered. Erwin stayed with him inside the car as Hange popped the hood and Mike took off his coat to fan the smoke. Moblit ruffled his own hair and asked Mike what was wrong.

“I told you the car was burning oil, at this speed, it was obvious that this was going to happen, be thankful the engine hasn’t seized up yet,” he complained to Hange who’d started kicking the wheels as if they’d done anything and started slamming their fists on the roof. Moblit held from behind and they started sobbing. Levi didn’t know that the reason Hange was losing their mind like that was that they blamed themself for not protecting him, since they were now his manager, too. Erwin did. They’d been as upset the first time he’d gotten hounded, so many years ago, after his first ‘scandal’.

“Hange doesn’t want anything to happen to us,” Erwin explained softly, “they feel like they couldn’t protect you against those people.”

Levi stared out of the window, uncertain, but then opened the door and got out of the car. Erwin followed him.

“Hange, it’s not your fault,” Levi said, and they shot him a look, “I mean it, there was nothing you could do. I got caught in my emotions,” he admitted, lowering his eyes, “I should have known better.”

“That’s also normal,” Erwin said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “they catch us when we’re still running high on adrenaline,” he told him, “to rile us up.”

Levi looked up at him, and he nodded. “I’ve been caught in some embarrassing stuff through the years,” he smiled a little, “I don’t expect you to know that far.”

“It’s the tabloids and the gossip magazines,” Moblit said gently, holding Hange who couldn’t stop crying, “we have to run from these people because what they want is that we hit them.”

Levi had figured as much. He didn’t read that kind of rubbish, but he still felt bad that Hange was so upset over him. “Hange, I promise it’s fine, I know my uncle is as bad as they said, but they,” he huffed and shook his head, “they shot their shot, and they were right to assume I’d also get pissed at the suggestion that he’d hurt Uri.”

“It’s because,” Hange sobbed, letting Moblit wipe their face, “it’s because they don’t know what kind of relationship they had, but they want to know,” they said and Moblit kissed their forehead and their temple, and then their lips, while rubbing circles on their back for comfort. They started calming down and breathing, “I hate that I can’t do anything to stop them.”

Levi gave them a tentative pat on the arm. “I appreciate the sentiment, four eyes,” he said, trying to ease the mood as he could. He looked at Mike, who had returned from the convenience store with a bottle of water and a bottle of engine oil, “now can we focus on the car? Mike’s back.”

“You’re lucky they had this,” Mike shook the oil and threw the water bottle at Moblit who caught it, “for that crazy one,” he said, uncapping the bottle of oil and draining it inside the engine. Hange drank the water like they hadn’t had anything to drink in years, “it should hold up,” Mike said, binning the empty bottle of oil in front of the store, “but you’re bringing the car to the shop tomorrow and I’m fixing it. This car is a classic,” he said crossing his arms, “and you’re pushing it too far. Why don’t you get another car, one you can kick the shit out of, and save this one for leisure?”

Hange finally chuckled a bit, throwing the empty bottle of water inside the car. “Maybe you’re right, Mike,” they said and looked at Levi, scrunching their face, “I’m sorry I lost my cool like this.”

“I said it was fine,” Levi said, “can we get home now?”

“I’m driving,” Mike declared, and nobody complained. Moblit sat at the front with him and Hange sat between Levi and Erwin on the back, hooking their arms, and making them lean onto them. Erwin smiled at Levi who returned it and sighed deeply. The rest of the trip was silent, slow, and safe. Levi had grown used to being alone, but that evening, he realised that he’d be with that crazy lot for a long time. And that was a comforting feeling.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boxing is often called the Sweet Science. And I'm leaving this note here, in case anyone wants to look into it - "The Sweet Science of Bruising" by Joy Wilkinson is a play about women boxing in the 19th century and gives me all the powerful, fighting back vibes.


	5. Shall we Dance? Or rather, shall we fight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of domestic violence, knife injuries, blood, and gun violence.
> 
> I just want to thank everyone who's reading this, commenting, leaving kudos, and bookmarking it. I say this every time but there's not much more I can say. And I feel the need to say it every time. Even if you're just reading and not interacting in any way, thank you. I appreciate everything. I just hope anyone reading this is enjoying it. 
> 
> This chapter is the beginning of The Plan. I'm sure everyone is familiar with the fake dating trope (not tripe, goddammit). I'm rereading after posting to try to spot any typos and eaten words I've missed. While it's all written, whenever I reread, I keep taking out things and adding other things so it's bound to have mistakes. The title of the third section is an almost direct quote from the film that's heavily referenced. I'm not sure if anyone reading is familiar with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. I'm a big fan, and I'm projecting that here (when will I ever not project my own tastes into my faves?). People at the time shipped the actors really hard (think what happens today with irl shipping welp), there's even "fanart" of them meeting in Heaven when Ginger passed away in '95. They really had a lot of chemistry and were good friends, but they never dated. 
> 
> Anyway, can I ever stop rambling about random stuff? Yes. I hope you enjoy this chapter, too.

* * *

**I. Self-love and self-defence**

* * *

They could try to pin the blame on Wings of Freedom for the stabbing, but they didn’t have any proof. Levi was unfazed when the burble of the woman who’d stabbed her husband started. It’d been self-defence. Nobody doubted that. The interesting bit was that despite the obvious rage, it’d been done with skill. Justice Higgins hadn’t stabbed to kill; she’d cut to leave permanent damage.

“They said she hit him and then put him in submission after he hurt her. She aimed for the inside of the arms and cut his tendons,” one student said, and Levi saw the glint in her eye, “now he can’t hurt her anymore.”

More than a place to learn how to fight, Levi had realised these women found comfort in each other because when you’ve been abused, you can tell when someone else has been, too. That brought them together. It gave them strength. And that incident fuelled them.

But the cops showed up at the gym’s door a couple of days later and the instructors were inquired.

“We teach self-defence,” Erwin said evenly, “we don’t teach how to use weapons here.”

One cop was staring at Levi, who was holding his gaze, unfazed. “This man is the nephew of Kenny the Ripper,” the cop pointed out, glaring down at him.

“So what?” Levi asked haphazardly, giving him a bored look, “If I recall well, my uncle used to slice throats,” he passed his finger across his throat, “don’t remember him ever giving his victims little boo-boos.”

The cop opened his mouth indignantly, but Erwin interrupted him.

“Officer, Levi teaches Jiu-Jitsu,” Erwin said evenly, about as unfazed as Levi, “he’s guilty of teaching that woman how to restrain her husband after he assaulted her, but nothing else. We do not teach anybody how to wield weapons here,” he repeated, “it’s common sense that severed tendons are likely to never heal,” he explained, patronising, looking down at the men in blue with their big guns and tiny egos, “would you mind explaining to me why we’re being inquired over the case of a woman who protected herself against a man twice her size?”

The cops fumbled with incoherent words and looked around to see if they could find any weapons. When they naturally couldn’t, Levi asked if they needed to use the loo before leaving and they begrudgingly left. It was still the morning so nobody else was in to train yet. When Erwin looked at Levi and smiled, he already knew he had indeed been the one to teach that woman where to aim.

“You give me fever,” he said and smiled. Levi didn’t get what he meant by it but smiled back, defiant, “you really said that to a cop.”

Levi scoffed. “And I’d say it again,” he said, “I can’t fucking believe they came here for that.”

“Was it you, though?” Erwin asked, and Levi looked at him.

“What do you think?”

“I think that’s sexy,” he said with a grin, and Levi snorted, “and also smart. You knew they’d need more than submission and fists to protect themselves.”

Levi shrugged and sighed. “She did a mighty fine job, didn’t she?” he said, smiling a little, “Justice can stop telling people to call her Titi now, she’s earned her name.”

“She really did,” Erwin smiled, “now let’s spar,” he said, “it’s cold in here. Those pigs interrupted us just when we were warming up.”

The weather was no longer warm, summer was gone, and October was getting colder by the day. They didn’t get the A/C running in the morning. These days they did a lot of sparring and lifting training. Erwin mostly corrected any of Levi’s blunders, which weren’t many. And Levi was beginning to see fighting the way Erwin did—as fun. He knew that it was fun with him because his energy was contagious. And he started hoping he could fight for fun, too.

* * *

After the victory at the small fish tournament, Levi became famous. Hange made sure that all the interviews he gave were with respectful people and for proper newspapers and magazines. He was on the cover of a boxing magazine in October, which was a terrible experience, even with his friends there, cheering him on. He couldn’t bring himself to smile, and he had to be told exactly how to pose. The cover picture showed a very angry man, covered in a layer of Vaseline, but the issue was popular.

Levi had a hard time talking to anybody who looked him dead in the eye and told him he was a sex symbol and an inspiration for short men all over the world. But he managed. When he read the interview, he figured they had to add some fluff to the bare answers he’d given, but that was awkward.

“Don’t worry, the first time I gave an interview for that one, they also made me sound like an asshole,” Erwin said, “what was it,” he looked at what they’d written and laughed again, _“I’m not keeping tabs, but I don’t go long without a partner. I’ve never had a serious one, though.”_

Levi snatched the magazine from his hands and closed it. “If you stopped laughing, it’d be nice, jackass,” he complained and shoved the magazine under the coffee table of Erwin’s living room.

It was the evening after they published the issue. Hange had just left after dropping off the free copy he was entitled to. They hadn’t bothered going to his tiny flat. He only went there to sleep lately and while it was still clean, he hadn’t cooked a meal there in over two weeks. Of course, he knew he’d been coaxed to stick around by Erwin, the smooth-talking bastard, who said he didn’t like to be alone in the evenings. But he’d only complained about it once. And he’d gotten Erwin coasters for his coffee table on his birthday. His bonsai tree was also on the table, next to the elephant-shaped oil burner, and it was thriving.

“What did you tell them, then?”

“I just said I wasn’t keeping tabs and had never dated,” Levi snapped, “that’s true. I remember the people I’ve fucked, but I’ve never dated them. They made me sound like a jerk.”

Erwin hummed. “You’ve never dated?”

Levi clucked his tongue and huffed. “No, I haven’t,” he said, knowing that Erwin wouldn’t pry, “I should have lied.”

“I agree,” Erwin said and went through the films to get to one of his old black and white flicks “you should have lied. But it’s not like this matters a lot, everyone knows magazines exaggerate stuff,” Erwin appeased with a smile, “next time you have to give an interview and they ask stuff like that, just don’t be honest.”

“Really?” Levi asked.

Erwin nodded. “I’ve been omitting things my whole career. When they ask me more than I’m willing to share, I just dodge the question like it’s a straight jab,” he said and did the head movement of dodging, smiling, “saved me an awful lot of trouble.”

Levi wondered what he’d been omitting. He looked like such a transparent, easy-going man. It was hard to imagine him having secrets. Levi had read the normal interviews. Erwin was the kid of a rich and good family, and he’d never had any reason to fight other than he wanted to. What could he be hiding?

* * *

**II. The man with the tiny ego and an assault rifle**

* * *

It was a cold Wednesday in November, almost a month after they were inquired about the woman who’d maimed her abusive husband made the news and left tons of husbands scared. They’d been swarming the place lately and Hange had had to intervene and placed a no loitering sign on the window of the gym. They still hung out there, but no longer loitered.

Erwin and Levi were sparring as they did now. They boxed with one another for about two hours and then unwound with a bit of MMA sparring. Erwin had Levi on the mat, pinned on his back, Erwin’s legs around his waist and his hands restrained behind his back. Levi stopped struggling when he felt that he couldn’t get out. But Erwin didn’t get off him. Levi looked at him and gulped, his heart beating faster.

“If I wanted to hurt you and you had a knife in your hand, how would you get out of here?” Erwin asked quietly, smiling.

“Like this,” Levi said simply, touching his forearm with the hand he could move best, “I’d cut my hand, but I’d cut you too and you’d let go, then I’d stab the shit out of you,” he told him feeling his warm breath brush against his skin when he chuckled and let him go, “why are you still fixed on that?”

“I just think it’s amazing,” Erwin said, sitting down on the mat, looking at him, “I like that.”

Levi looked at him and took notice of his flushed cheeks and his eyes. It wouldn’t surprise him that Erwin had a danger kink–he was the kind of weirdo who got happy when he was getting the lights choked out of him–but he had a hard time believing that he’d be into men. Or rather, he wanted to think he wasn’t. It was easier that way.

But that afternoon would come to rock his life and throw everything off its precarious balance.

Levi was teaching his Jiu-Jitsu class and when he looked up, he saw Erwin raise his arms when a gunman pointed an assault rifle at his chest. It felt like the world had stopped spinning on that moment.

“You’ve been putting ideas in my woman’s head!” the gunman shouted, “And I’m fucking sure you’ve been fucking her, too!”

“I’m sure you're mistaken,” Erwin said calmly, his arms raised, facing the gunman. The people in the Jiu-Jitsu side of the room gasped. Levi told them to get down and behind him. He gestured to Erwin’s Muay Thai group to get down as well. They did.

“I’ve seen the way you look at the women, you pig! You think you’re hot stuff because you’re big, but let’s see how you do against this,” the gunman said shaking his big gun. He was a skinny guy around 6-feet tall with black, greasy hair, “I know you’ve been fucking my woman and that’s why she beat me up and ran off. I bet she’s hiding here somewhere.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who your wife is,” Erwin said mildly, “would you mind killing me outside though? I would hate for my students to be more traumatised than they already are by this sight.”

Levi knew reasonably that it was rash to jump a guy with a semi-automatic rifle in his hands, but he was on edge seeing Erwin in front of it, the anger bubbling under his skin at the gunman’s accusations and Erwin’s reckless selflessness. His body moved without him thinking enough about it. He saw the guy’s finger hover over the trigger and before he could so much as pull it, Levi had pushed the barrel away from him and yanked the rifle clean off his hands. He pulled the magazine off the gun and threw it all away. It skidded on the floor, hitting the wall. The guy was dumbfounded and didn’t see it coming when Levi grabbed his head and pulled it down to his knee, jumping up as he did it and smashing his face in. Erwin was already calling the cops by the time the guy hit the floor with blood gushing out of his nose, out cold.

The gym had cameras–because Hange insisted that it should–and they quickly retrieved the footage to show exactly what had happened. Levi had injured the bastard–a Mr Kipling, husband of Ingrid Kipling, who had indeed learned how to fight there and was no longer in the country–and even though his nose was smashed in and his face was swollen like a melon, he was taken into police custody for possession of an illegal weapon and attempted murder.

* * *

**III. Will our romance end on a sorrowful note when you’re gone?**

* * *

It wasn’t the first time they had angry husbands accusing Erwin of fucking their wives–or “their women”, as they called them, though they said it as one says “bitch”–but it was the first time a gun was involved.

Erwin answered the cops’ questions and Levi answered the cops’ questions, and then they answered more questions, and finally Hange spoke for them. The cameras were state-of-the-art and had sound. It was obvious what had happened. They still asked if Erwin knew anything about Mrs Ingrid Kipling. Hange asked them why was it that it was so hard to believe that women had agency and could make their own decisions. Erwin hadn’t asked anyone to join his gym. Ingrid and the other women who wanted to learn how to fight abuse had joined of their own volition. Maybe those women were just tired of taking shit from assholes and fighting gave them the confidence to escape, more than it gave them the power to beat up their abusers.

That was logical, Levi agreed, but he was still pissed at Erwin that evening when they finally let them go home. They had dinner with Hange at a shish kebab place–Erwin’s favourite–and Levi didn’t think of doing anything other than going to Erwin’s place.

“You’re mad at me,” Erwin said when it was just the two of them in his house. He took off his shoes and watched Levi do the same, “if you wanted to kick my ass, we should have done it downstairs. No fists,” Erwin said and smiled, putting himself in grappling position–wide stance, slightly bent over, and his arms stretched.

Levi didn’t think it was funny and gritted his teeth before lunging at him. He needed to let the steam off before he blew up and started yelling at him. Levi knew that Erwin was barely putting up a fight when they grappled. As angry as he was, Levi would have gotten his ass kicked otherwise. Levi gripped Erwin’s arm, but he jumped, not letting himself be swept. But then Levi put him in the clinch and swept him with his left leg, dumping him on his ass and falling on top of him, restraining his movements. He knew it hurt, and he wanted it hurt, but Erwin didn’t complain and instead let him grip him tightly until he was satisfied. Levi dropped his head on his shoulder as he slowly released him. He was fine. Erwin was safe.

Levi got up. Erwin sat up and looked up at him from the floor, smiling, apologetic. “You’re fucking reckless,” he muttered, reaching his hand down to help him up. Erwin said nothing to that.

Erwin shrugged and sighed. “Can I get us tea?” he asked mildly, and Levi nodded with a frown, sitting on the couch, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He’d been careless, too. What if he’d miscalculated the guy’s speed? When he closed his eyes, all he saw Erwin in front of the rifle. The thought of losing him terrified him.

Erwin passed Levi his tea and pulled the coasters from under the table. Levi had to tell him to get them every night, but not that one. Erwin put his mug on the coaster and looked at Levi.

“Do you forgive me now?” he asked.

Levi returned his look. “Forgive you for what?” he asked back, holding his mug, letting the heat burn his palm.

“For putting everyone’s lives in danger,” Erwin said, picking up his mug and the remote to turn on the TV. Levi was glad for the distraction, “I understand that you’re mad because my anger led me to look down on a crazy bastard with a gun,” he continued, going through his old film collection with the remote, “I’m sorry for that.”

Levi’s anger deflated when Erwin confessed that it’d been anger. “You were angry?”

“I didn’t think you hit him hard enough, either, if that’s what you’re asking,” Erwin replied and sipped on his milky tea. He was echoing Levi’s words when he’d been asked about the reasons why he’d bashed that man’s face in like that.

Levi stared at the large TV where, of course, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers’ names were popping up on the credits, which were almost always at the beginning in old pictures.

That film was called _‘Shall we Dance? (1937)’_.

Erwin had told him those films relaxed him. They usually talked over the films, and that night wasn’t an exception. The stories weren’t particularly convoluted, and it was more about the dancing and the music than it was about the plot. They watched it for a while and when the press showed up on the screen, pestering the characters, he sighed.

“I’m tired of this,” Erwin confessed, sipping on his tea, “I wanted to teach people how to fight to give them confidence,” Levi knew that, “and I succeeded, I guess. But I keep attracting assholes with fragile egos,” he said and snorted, fixing his eyes on the screen, “I had this silly old dream, that I got from watching a show as a kid,” he snorted and shook his head, “I wanted to give people a fighting chance when they felt lost and powerless. But it’s impossible like this,” he sipped on his tea, “and it’s too exhausting.”

Levi was listening, and his chest tightened hearing the defeated tone in his voice. It wasn’t fair. Erwin had done so much for their students and had almost gotten shot. It wasn’t fucking fair. He didn’t know what to say to him, so he watched the film with clenched fists, letting his tea cool down on the table.

Fred Astaire was playing an idiotic ballet dancer who called himself ‘Petrov’ but was actually a guy from Philadelphia called Peter P. Peters.

Levi sighed and picked up his tea and dank some of it. “Maybe you should find a woman and settle down,” he suggested vaguely when Ginger Rogers showed up on the screen, upset and annoyed beyond all reason at ‘Petrov’s’ antics.

“That’s not happening,” Erwin said, voice a bit harsh, glancing at him with furrowed brows, “have you seen me with anyone in all the time we’ve known each other?”

Levi mused and realised that in fact, he hadn’t. “No,” he answered, mildly surprised.

“That’s because I didn’t have any interest in it,” Erwin said distantly, watching the film. He’d watched it so many times he knew the lyrics to all the songs, “what I could do is get someone to pose as my lover,” he said, and Levi frowned because that was what had just happened in the film. Fred and Ginger’s characters had agreed to pretend to be engaged to squash the rumours that they were secretly married. The plan was to marry and immediately get divorced afterwards, achieving their goals. Levi had never watched that film, “just for a couple of months.”

“Then find a woman who’s willing to do that,” Levi said and shrugged, “shouldn’t be too hard.”

Erwin looked at him. “It can’t be someone I don’t know,” he said and smiled. Levi saw him grip his mug, “and it shouldn’t be a woman.”

Levi almost dropped the mug he was holding from the tips of his fingers and had to grip it with the other hand. “You’re not serious,” he said, “nobody will believe it.”

Erwin sighed. “They will, especially if it’s someone I already know,” Erwin said mildly, “someone I’ve been spending an awful lot of time with and saved my life today,” he continued, not hiding the wariness when Levi fixed his eyes on him “and you know I’m talking about you,” he said at last, “I know this isn’t easy, your name will be dragged into it,” he said and looked into his eyes, “but we wouldn’t have to do much, aside from maybe be seen holding hands. Perhaps hug a little.”

Levi thought he was mishearing it and his first instinct was to be safe and say no, absolutely not. But Erwin was looking at him with those pleading eyes, and he knew he was desperate for some peace. He’d fought for Erwin’s freedom once; he could do that again. Yeah.

“What if people see through it?” Levi asked, but that wasn’t a no and he saw, with a pounding heart, that Erwin’s eyes lit up in hope, “Taking that I go with it, that is,” he added, sipping on his lukewarm tea.

“They won’t,” Erwin promised and chuckled, “Hange will bring up the stories that they’ve buried for me through the years,” he said. Levi looked at him, mystified, “that’s one of the things I’ve omitted from the press,” Erwin said at last, “I swing both ways.”

Levi’s heart dropped, and he stared at him in disbelief. “You’re bisexual?”

“I am,” Erwin confirmed, looking at him, wary, “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

Levi frowned and took a swig of tea. “No, it doesn’t,” he said and meant it, but he was anxious about the whole damn thing now, “fine, then,” he said, not thinking, “I’ll pose as your lover. It’s the least I can do since you’ve given me a job and everything.”

“No need for the reasons why you’re accepting, I’m calling Hange,” Erwin said, his face lighting up in a smile. He put his mug on the coaster. It had been empty for a while. He got his phone and called Hange, telling them the overall details of the plan and the reasons. It was simple. There was no science behind it.

Levi heard Hange yell from the other end of the line and then laugh wildly. Erwin put them on speaker on request. “That just made my whole damn week!”, they exclaimed, “Oh my God, I’m so excited about this. It’s brilliant! It’s absolute genius! Their masculinity is so toxic, they ought to be homophobic and think queer men pose no threat. They’ll absolutely leave you alone! Little do they know they’ll just be leaving their wives alone as well!” Hange said loudly, speaking too fast, almost mad, “And it has to be Levi, of course, nobody else would make it work,” they said and the sound of a pen running fast across a piece of paper reached them, “a week from now, you’ll announce it to the public. In the meantime, take a couple of suggestive pictures. I know you won’t be flashing it about,” they said, “but I’ll send you a couple of references, to give you an idea what kind of energy you should aim for,” they heard the sound of quick typing. Moblit was chortling in the back, “yes, I have just typed ‘homoerotic men’ on google dot com,” they said and laughed heartily, “Mobsy is laughing because the first results are fighters,” Erwin chuckled too. Levi made a face, “Right, I’ll send you two pictures, but be creative, check out what couples post, shouldn’t be hard. We’ll talk later,” they said, and Erwin got the notif for the pictures they’d sent, “Night night!”

Erwin looked at one of the pictures and chuckled. There was nothing inherently sexual about it, but at the same time, there was. And it was glaring. Levi got his phone out and typed ‘homoerotic men’ on google to confirm that Hange wasn’t pulling their leg. They weren’t. The first results that the bloody search engine returned were of muscular men in fighting gear.

“We have to take pictures again?” Levi asked when it finally dawned on him, “Fucking hell.”

“Make an effort?” Erwin asked and Levi huffed as Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire danced on roller skates showing that they were falling for each other. Levi huffed and shrugged.

“Fine, then,” he said, getting up, “I’m going home.”

“Okay,” Erwin said with a smile, “and thank you for doing this for me, Levi.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Levi said, “see you tomorrow.”

He left the flat, clutching his sports bag over his shoulder. The good thing about being his uncle’s nephew, he felt, was that it was easy to hide feelings under a guise of gratitude. The bad part was that it didn’t work for too long. His mind had to stay focused and remember that Erwin was doing that to get assholes off his back. His being bisexual didn’t mean he had feelings for him. It stung that he wanted Erwin not to have feelings for him, too. Levi groaned and clucked his tongue when he dropped the keys to his motorbike with his unsteady fingers. He wanted to call the whole thing off, but like Ginger and Fred, the truth was that he didn’t. He and Erwin didn’t even have a different accent.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Roller Skate Scene from 'Shall we Dance?' > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOILZ_D3aRg&ab_channel=wheel


	6. Fighting two Fights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of homophobia, stereotypes, and suicide.
> 
> Okay, so here's the 5th chapter. It says it's the 6th but that's because there's a contents chapter. This one is full of many things and I indulged myself with all the soft, bonding vibes. Also sexual tension. Yes.  
> There are music references again, just the one, I'll link it at the end. Because Fado is beautiful and sounds old. Also, yes, I was indulging myself with the old Cadillac, too. I tried to revise the text but there's only so much I can do. I'll reread after posting because that's when I catch most of the typos.
> 
> And a clarification: the location is vague on purpose because it doesn't matter, I think. Since we live in a globalised world, or rather, an Americanised world, it could be almost anywhere. It's true that assault rifles are mostly legal in America, but a couple of states require the purchaser to show proof that they're not going to go on a rampage. So, although I write in BrE you could think this happens in America, too. It's up to you, really.
> 
> Again, I read all your comments and I love them and save them. They're urging me on and helping me fight my mind. Thank you so much for reading and as usual, all I can hope for is that you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

**I. Deixis and more of those goddamn pictures**

* * *

Context is the basis of language, and language is more than just words. Language can be anything, and the most honest language is the language of the body. It matters when and where things are done or said. It matters _a lot._

The morning after Erwin’s _desperate_ plan to take back his freedom and be left in peace to teach people how to fight, he and Levi trained as they’d been doing for almost 5 months. But when they took a break after two hours of boxing sparring and a bit of MMA sparring, Erwin brought the subject up.

“Are you okay with taking the pictures now?” Erwin asked with a smile after drinking some water.

Levi huffed and drained his own bottle. “Let’s get it over with,” he said, “Which one do you want to do?”

“The one where one of us sits on the other’s shoulders,” Erwin said, “I think we should both do it.”

“What?”

“You sit on my shoulders, and I sit on yours,” Erwin clarified. Levi hummed and nodded. That sounded right, “and the one on top takes the picture.”

The gym had a big mirror in the basement where people often took pictures flexing with the machines, so that’s where they went. Levi went first. Erwin put his head between his legs from behind and had him sit on his shoulders before standing up. Levi didn’t flinch when he was lifted, crossing his legs in front of Erwin’s chest and holding the phone as Erwin smiled and held his ankles.

“A smile?”

“No,” Levi muttered, “I fucking hate pictures, and this is awkward,” his cock was pressed uncomfortably against the nape of Erwin’s neck. But he took a couple of pictures, glaring at the mirror. It wasn’t as easy for him to lift Erwin, who weighed 93kg, on his shoulders, but he made it look easy because he didn’t shake. He gripped Erwin’s knees to prevent him from falling. Now he was feeling Erwin’s cock against the back of his neck, and the embarrassment of noticing the size of it made a flush creep onto his cheeks. Erwin was grinning at the mirror when he took the pictures.

The next photo was less of a display of strength and more on the suggestive side, as Hange had instructed. The problem was that it wasn’t even suggestive. It was a lovers’ picture no matter how you looked at it.

“Okay, no, this shit isn’t just suggestive, Erwin,” Levi protested, “there’s nothing platonic about men sitting on each other’s lap and holding each other like _this_. Hange wasn’t thinking straight last night,” he said, and Erwin laughed, “shut up.”

“We can save this one for later, then,” Erwin agreed, “let’s think of something else, one a bit suggestive but not as blatantly gay as this,” he chuckled, “maybe I can stand behind you and put my arms around you to take the picture?”

“How?” Levi asked.

“Permission to demonstrate,” Erwin requested.

Levi huffed, impatiently. “Get on with it,” he said. Levi stood in front of the mirror and felt Erwin’s arms circle his waist. He tensed under the embrace and crossed his arms over Erwin’s hands, which were holding the phone.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, that looks alright,” Levi said, “take the picture quick, this is embarrassing,” he complained.

“A smile?” Erwin tried again. Levi’s closed expression was the answer, “that’s fine, we can work with it anyway.” Erwin didn’t smile either, putting on a fierce expression instead, “got it,” he let go of Levi who breathed and clucked his tongue, “that should do for now,” Erwin said, smiling, “I’ll buy you lunch to make up for it. Maybe we can take a picture then, that’s innocent enough.”

“So many fucking pictures,” Levi complained, huffing and rubbing his forehead, “fine. Let’s spar now, I’m tired of this bullshit.”

Erwin was more than happy to spar with him.

* * *

Hange’s instructions were clear – post pictures, add vague, yet suggestive captions and like each other’s posts. Hange agreed that the second photo was a bit too suggestive for the time being and preferred the one they’d gone for instead. Erwin posted the picture of Levi he’d taken at lunch, and Levi posted the picture he’d taken of Erwin. Nobody found the pictures of them sitting on each other’s shoulders strange and they’d just tagged them with generic fighting things #boxing, #fighters, #wingsoffreedomgym #workout. Levi’s was the most talked about, of course. Then Erwin posted the other one on his stories with the caption _‘Levi doesn’t like pictures :’(‘_

That was exactly what Hange had wanted. Vague, but leaving things implied. Neither had notifications on, so they didn’t see many reactions. They’d wait for Hange’s report on the progress.

In the afternoon they had boxing training for the public. Levi didn’t do much on those aside from pairing up with people who didn’t have a pair. Erwin normally took Reiner, their up-and-coming fighter, who was in his weight class. But Reiner expressed little interest in fighting professionally, despite being skilled. Levi saw, not without pride, that he was holding his head up high and was no longer afraid.

“It’s a shame you don’t want to fight professionally, Reiner,” Erwin told him when they were taking a hydration break, “you’ve got potential.”

Reiner looked up at him. “I think I’m going to try the underground fights, then I’ll decide,” he said and got up, “I want to fight with fewer rules first,” he said, clenching and unclenching his taped hands.

Erwin nodded and understood. There was nothing better to beat fear than fight against guys who could kill you without consequences.

* * *

Erwin and Levi posted more suggestive pictures until the Sunday before they were to announce it publicly. Hange was delighted with the pictures and sent them tons of voice notes, most of them laughing, but also praising how good they were at it.

“It’s the way they’re not really romantic for me,” they said on one of their notes, “but there’s this energy between you,” they were laughing and Moblit was mumbling something about not making them feel awkward about it, “oh baby boy, they don’t mind it! It’s probably that homoerotic energy that fighters have, google agree-” they said. The note ended but there was another “Anyway, good job. My favourite so far is the one with the plants with a cheeky hand on Levi’s waist. Talk later! Take care!”

Levi sighed and Erwin chuckled. “It was a cheeky hand,” Erwin said, “you’d have to be looking at where my hands were to see it,” he added and smiled, then, “you’re sure you’re okay with going along with the plan?”

“Yeah,” Levi confirmed, “it’s too late for it now.”

“It’s not,” Erwin promised, “I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable with having the label on you forever,” he said, looking at him.

Levi looked at him and was quiet a moment, but the answer was simple. “I don’t care,” he said, and meant it, “I’m known for being the nephew of a murderer,” he said, tone loaded, “being a man’s lover is nothing compared to that,” he muttered.

“Good, then,” Erwin said and smiled, side-stepping the comment about his uncle, “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with it.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Levi said and sighed, “I said I’d do it and my word is final.”

And at last, they met up with Hange and Moblit, who had everything ready to deal with the press.

They met at the shish kebab place for dinner and Moblit was holding the notes neatly.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Hange said in a conspiring tone, leaning over the table so they could all hear them but not be overheard, “I’ll bring up the stories I’ve buried through the years tomorrow,” they said, “you’ll post pictures tonight. Pictures where it’s obvious that you’re a couple, and that’ll confirm what many people are already suspecting. You should write something about pride and being proud of who you love,” Hange told Erwin, who nodded, “that’s easy to you. And you,” they turned to Levi, “post a picture and do your own thing. Type something like ‘Yes, I love this man. Deal with it’, with the pride hashtags,” they suggested. Levi sighed but shrugged and nodded. That sounded like something he’d say, “and you should move in together, for the time being,” Hange added, “that’ll solidify the story. Erwin has a spare bedroom in his place.”

Levi had seen that one coming as well and rubbed his forehead, nodding. Erwin agreed right away.

“Pack your stuff and move in tonight,” Hange said, “and get those pictures up before midnight.”

It was set then. Levi was anxious about moving in, but Erwin seemed to be pretty alright with the ordeal. Levi took his motorbike and went to get his things at his place. When he locked the door from the outside, he sighed. It felt like he wouldn’t be living there again and while he thought that was unlikely, at the back of his mind, he wished his first thought was right.

* * *

He parked his motorbike in Erwin’s garage and went upstairs. Erwin greeted him shirtless, and Levi huffed, making a face.

“It has to be like that, you heard our manager,” Erwin said, chuckling, “we’ve sparred shirtless before. I don’t know why you’re blushing.”

Levi frowned and clucked his tongue, ignoring the comment.

Erwin had set up a tripod with his phone on the coffee table and Levi already knew the pose they’d be doing. He yanked off his sweater over his head and sighed, putting it on the back of one of the armchairs, gripping the upholstery. Erwin sat sideways on the couch and all Levi had to do was spread his legs and sit on his lap, holding his cheeks and look into his eyes. He tensed up when he felt Erwin’s warm hands on the bare skin of his waist and looked down at him, meeting only a smile and pink cheeks. Levi was glad they didn’t have to press their chests together.

“This feels different than sparring shirtless,” Erwin confessed, and his hands didn’t stay still. Levi breathed in sharply but didn’t pull away. Erwin slid his hands up his sides and ultimately wrapped his arms around him, “and we both know why, but it’s just for a little bit,” he said, voice quiet, their eyes locked, “I got it filming,” he said, glancing at the camera. Levi glanced at it too, frowning, “we can pick a good still like that.”

Levi licked his lips and looked at him, seeing his eyes darken and his mood shift. Levi held his warm face between his hands and leant his forehead against his. “I just hope this is worth it and they leave you alone, Erwin,” Levi said quietly. Erwin smiled and closed his eyes. Levi sighed as he got off his lap and sat on the couch, his heart hammering hard against his ribs.

Erwin breathed in before smiling and getting his phone from the tripod. He went through the video and picked a still. The last moment when Levi leant his forehead against his and he closed his eyes. The quality of the stills was good because his phone was good. With a filter, it’d look perfect. He connected his phone to the laptop Levi was only seeing then and popped the video on the screen. It was an embarrassing clip, but Erwin grabbed the still he wanted, then sent it back to his phone.

“Which still do you want? You can pick a different one,” Erwin said. Levi sighed and sat through the clip again. He picked the one where he was looking a bit upset and glancing at the camera. It fell in line with what Hange had told him to write. Erwin sent that one as well and then sent it to him.

“Right,” Erwin said after typing the caption. Levi had been done with his for a bit, “I post first, you post after.”

“Got it,” Levi said, his hands shaking. Erwin hit post. Levi waited a minute and posted his own. Then they liked each other’s post and threw their phones away.

“We need something stronger than tea tonight, I think,” Erwin sighed, “I’ll pour us some brandy.”

“Solid idea,” Levi said and huffed, leaning back onto the couch. He hoped their next suggestive pictures involved less sitting on Erwin’s lap and less of Erwin’s hands on his body like that. That’s why context mattered. It was alright for him to have his hands there. But only if they were fighting. Not like _that_. And not _there._

* * *

**II. Submission out of the context of grappling is something else**

* * *

Hange had been right about everything. They took care of who’d be allowed to do the press coverage of Erwin and Levi’s love affair. A queer-friendly sports magazine got the privilege and of course, the reliable queer news outlets did, too. The gossip crap also wrote about it, but Hange got that covered and sued them for libel and homophobia.

It shocked Levi to see what queer fighters Erwin had bedded through the years when they came through a while later and showed their support and pride that he’d taken such an important step. They mostly commented on the chemistry, but they were especially happy that Erwin had found love at last. What it seemed like, though, was that all people who’d been intimate with Erwin had nothing but good things to say about him. It was awkward to interact with those people, but Hange told Levi he had to because these men didn’t know the relationship was fake.

“Try to sound a little less dry,” Erwin told him when they were both doing their social media duties on the couch.

Levi missed the old pictures with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. That social media shit was the opposite of relaxing. He made a face. “I’m not huge on lying, you know? I’m praying this guy doesn’t start talking about your dick size,” he muttered. Erwin spluttered, “don’t fucking laugh.”

“Who are you talking to?” he shuffled closer to peer onto his screen. Levi sniffed and his first instinct was to get away. But Erwin was warm and he smelled nice, “Oh, he’s a good guy, cruiserweight now I heard, but used to be heavyweight,” he said with a smile, “he sounds goofy but he’s serious in the ring,” he said, then, “and has an oral fixation,” he grinned.

“I don’t want to hear that, asshole,” Levi complained, shoving him, feeling the warmth on his face reach his ears.

“I’m sorry, just trying to ease the mood,” Erwin said and sighed, putting his phone aside, “I’m done here, it’s tiresome to look at comments. Some people are so stupid.”

Levi had noticed that too, and that was why he was so pissed.

“Don’t clap back,” Erwin warned, watching him grit his teeth and carefully removing his phone from his hands, “it’s not worth it. You know they wouldn’t say that to your face.”

“They fucking wouldn’t,” Levi spat, “they say nothing to us on the street,” he said, letting the anger turn to vicious satisfaction, “this is just… what the fuck do they know?”

“Nothing,” Erwin said mildly, “I guess it’s easier for idiots to imagine you bent over than imagine me bent over,” he said, looking at him, with a little smile.

Levi gulped and got mad, as his face heat up and his stomach lurched. “Shut the fuck up,” he clapped back, “that’s fucking embarrassing,” Erwin wouldn’t stop chuckling and Levi was seriously pissed, “you’re laughing because you’re not the one they’re calling a pillow-biter.”

Erwin stopped laughing but was smiling, still. “I don’t want to ask you outright if you’ve ever had sex with men, but I don’t like to beat around the bush,” he said quietly, looking at him.

Levi’s heart was pounding quickly in his chest and he wanted to lie but he was shit at lying. “I have,” he said, and looked away, shaking, scared, omitting that he only fucked men, omitting a lot of things, really. So much for not lying. “and I’m not a fucking pillow-biter.”

Erwin looked at him in silence, licking his lips and unblinking. “So, you’re strictly top?”

“Mostly,” he muttered, clenching his fists and wanting to drop that dangerous fucking subject. It was about trust. And he didn’t trust anybody. Or rather, he did trust one man. But he wouldn’t tell him that.

“I prefer to top, too,” Erwin said, tone mild, but slightly strained, “but I bottom just as happily,” he said and smiled, “I bend like a twig under the right man.”

Levi glared at him and his mind short-circuited. He didn’t want Erwin to start talking about the guys who’d fucked him. He didn’t want to fucking hear it. When he lunged at Erwin and tackled him, he wasn’t thinking with his brain. His heart was pounding hard and angry.

Erwin was still smiling and barely fought back when Levi slammed his back against the couch and restrained his movements, pinching his crossed arms behind his head and trapping his legs between his.

The absolute danger of what he’d done hit Levi when he looked at Erwin’s flushed face and saw his smile and messy hair. Their shirts had ridden up in the scuffle. Their bare stomachs were pressed against each other, heaving and panting.

On a couch.

Levi’s crotch was uncomfortably warm.

“If you want to do that, I think the bed would be better,” Erwin said, hoarse, his warm breath brushing against Levi’s lips. Levi let go of him a little too quickly and got away in silence, smoothing the front of his shirt with shaking hands. Erwin pulled his shirt back down again, “I’m getting tea,” he said and got up. Levi nodded.

They didn’t talk about it over the tea and watched _Citizen Kane_ in silence that evening. But Levi didn’t try to fight him anywhere else outside of the gym after that.

* * *

**III. The wonders of domesticity**

* * *

It was a fact, though. Nobody said a thing to their faces. The weak men gave them tentative smug looks, but Levi’s glare alone was enough to get them to look away. It was the thing about queerphobic assholes, most of them were cowards. They acted in packs, never alone. Levi started carrying an old flick-blade, just to feel safer when he was outside with Erwin and they _had to_ hold hands. To make the story more believable, naturally. Levi walked with the fingers of one hand around the handle of the knife, and the fingers of the other interlocked with Erwin’s.

Everyone who mattered won when Erwin and Levi began their fake relationship. The women who wanted to learn how to fight won. The LGBTQ+ people won. And Erwin won, too.

Erwin had come up with that whimsical plan and it was true that he wanted to get those assholes off his back, but he’d watched that film countless times and he knew very well how it ended. He also knew how happy he was when at the end Peter and Linda got together for real. Every time, he’d be waiting for them to get together even though he knew they would. So, why had he proposed that scheme to Levi? The truth was that he didn’t know at first.

Maybe he just wanted to spend more time with him. That was the first reason he gave himself. They’d known each other for months and he felt like he didn’t know the first thing about him. All he knew was that he liked tea, black, no whites. And he knew what Hange had told him and what he could induce from his reactions and behaviour. But what music did he like to listen to? What did he do on his free time? What little things did he enjoy? He quickly learnt that Levi needed to be left alone sometimes. Levi would excuse himself early in the evenings and go to the bedroom that was now his and he’d stay there for a while. Then he’d come out and join him, and he’d pour them tea without asking.

And in the weeks that followed he felt like a selfish asshole for wanting to go out with him at every given chance–normally on Sundays, their day off–and he’d spend time in his room coming up with new ideas for places where they could go. All under the excuse that they should be seen together and should post pictures. Levi hated those pictures, but Erwin used that as a pretext to spend time with him doing random things. It was a crazy feeling to want to be with someone like that, to want to go to the cinema on a Sunday afternoon, to want to visit an Aquarium, _hell_ , he’d even taken him to a botanical garden in another city. Levi didn’t seem to hate being with him and the more Erwin realised how agreeable that grumpy man was, the harder he fell for him. If he ended hurting and blue when they called the whole thing off, it’d be entirely on him.

And Levi had a hard time pretending to be annoyed when he saw Erwin so happy on their little silly Sunday dates. So, he didn’t pretend to be annoyed. He enjoyed himself and while he wasn’t exactly effusive and enthusiastic like his ‘date’, he hoped Erwin knew he liked to be with him. Levi felt the looming danger of being drawn into a man like Erwin, but he let it happen and didn’t fight it. That was a fight he knew he’d lose.

It was odd how positive their experiences were, considering how queerphobic the world was. But in hindsight, it was a bit of a bad move to get on the wrong side of a heavyweight boxing champion of the world and his mean-looking ‘boyfriend’. It was embarrassing and stressful, but Levi didn’t reject his hand when he wanted to hold it when they walked outside. And he looked less angry in the pictures they took in the following weeks.

Levi moved in with Erwin and right off the bat told him that he’d be cleaning and cooking since Erwin said he didn’t have to pay rent because there was no mortgage to pay for.

“It’s not fair if you do everything, Levi,” he told him on Saturday when they came home with bags full of cleaning supplies and groceries. They’d been arguing about it all the way there, “I can clean and cook just fine.”

“You leave dust everywhere and I’m a better cook,” Levi said firmly, “this is your house. I’m not paying to live here. We’re not really lovers, so the whole splitting tasks thing doesn’t apply,” he insisted, “you’ll let me do this, and that’s that.”

“Fine,” Erwin finally conceded, giving up. He’d found a guy who could be even more stubborn than he was, and it was frustrating. But he changed his mind when he saw Levi go about those menial tasks–he looked calm and at peace when he did them. There wasn’t a frown on his face. Erwin didn’t complain when on one of the cleaning days, he pulled out all the books from his shelves and organised them in alphabetical order after dusting them as Erwin read his gardening book while stealing glances at him.

“Have you read all of these books?” he asked when he was done and showered, sitting down with the tea Erwin made for him after dinner.

“Most of them,” Erwin said, “I found some of them in the basement of this building. It used to be a bookshop before it was abandoned. I kept a lot of them and donated the rest.”

“Hm,” Levi looked at the neatly organised bookshelves, shining with cedarwood oil, “they look much better now.”

“You know you don’t have to iron press my dress shirts, though,” Erwin commented softly, tentative and Levi huffed, “I can do that just fine, you know?”

“You don’t do it the right way,” Levi complained, “you leave wrinkles everywhere.”

Erwin sighed and shrugged. “Fine, then,” he chuckled and gave up on the subject then. The reasons Levi liked order ought to have something to do with his upbringing and Erwin wouldn’t pry. What mattered was that Levi was happy.

When a piece of clothing got a rip, Levi refused to throw it away and instead fixed it himself. Even though they could easily buy replacements, Levi insisted that if something could be fixed, it should be fixed, not thrown away.

“Spoken like a true old man,” Erwin teased as Levi sewed a rip Erwin had gotten on one of his dress shirts.

“I grew up with old men,” he said, snipping the thread with his teeth and testing the seams before handing the shirt back, “there. Good as new.”

“Thank you,” Erwin said, putting it back on and sighing, “I’ll get spoilt like this, what will I do when you’re gone?”

“Probably bin a lot of perfectly good things for no reason,” Levi said and made a face as Erwin chuckled.

And Erwin felt like that was what true peace felt like. It was comforting to have someone like Levi around. A presence that filled the whole house and made him smile just by looking at him. And he knew he was in deep trouble, but there wasn’t much to do about it except enjoy it while it lasted.

They fell into a peaceful routine fast. Levi was even starting to like those films as well.

* * *

**IV. The Cadillac, the rollercoaster, and the severed head**

* * *

Erwin was very keen on their ‘dates’, especially after buying a car as his birthday gift for himself.

It was a car that Mike had found for him, knowing he wasn’t a crazy driver. A classic, sleek, white 1965 Convertible Cadillac Deville.

It’d been obscenely expensive, but Erwin liked old cars as much as he liked old films, and he drove smoothly. The car was in mint condition, too. Mike had told him to be careful with it and had conceded to the sin of installing an alarm and GPS on the old beauty. The white vinyl seats squeaked at the slightest movement. The weather was cold, so the roof wasn’t down, and they had the fan on. It took ages to warm up because it relied on the engine’s warmth. Erwin had hung a traditional wooden acorn scent diffuser from the rear-view mirror. It smelled like pine.

The first time they went out together in the Cadillac, Levi thought he was crazy and told him as much. Erwin only laughed and didn’t mind it. But the weather was getting colder by the day and the car didn’t have proper heating.

“Since he installed a fucking alarm, why not heating, too,” Levi complained, with the cold air blowing in his face, “goddammit.”

“Mike wouldn’t do that,” Erwin said, “it’ll warm up soon enough. Mike almost cried when he had to install the alarm and the GPS. This is a classic.”

“You and your bloody classics,” Levi muttered, shaking his head. The fans were starting to blow lukewarm air, “too bad the radio is original, or we’d be able to play some good music from it,” he said and sniffed, “modern music’s fine, but in this car it feels weird.”

Erwin smiled. “I agree,” he said, “modern music feels too dissonant in here,” he gestured to the vintage, original technology, “but Mike would beat me up with a wrench, if I suggested replacing this radio.”

Levi snorted. That sounded accurate. “I wonder if he managed to fix Hange’s car,” he said, “that shit was falling apart. Did you ask?”

Erwin chortled heartily, shifting the gear, the sleeve of his blue V-neck sweater riding up and showing the Rolex watch that Levi was only then noticing. “No, I didn’t ask,” Erwin said, “but I gotta assume he’s still working on it. Last time I talked to them, they said Mike had lent them a car and they were still discussing which car to get with Moblit.”

Levi hummed and nodded. His eyes lingered on Erwin’s wrist. “You really do have expensive tastes,” he said, looking out the window and snorting “but guess that comes with the comfort you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your watch.”

“Oh,” Erwin said, glancing at his wrist, “this was a gift from my parents. The first time I won the lineal championship,” he smiled, “they said it was to check the time and remember to call my parents sometimes.”

Levi hummed. “And you do?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said mildly and tried to find something on the radio while keeping a hand on the wheel and his eyes on the road, “see if you can find something,” he said over the static, putting both hands back on the wheel. Levi clucked his tongue and carefully tried to tune it into a decent station. They did that every time and were yet to find something that fit that car.

“What language is that, no, no, go back, go back!” Erwin said eagerly and Levi frowned, putting it back, “sounds like… what does it sound like?”

Levi frowned and squinted. “Spanish?”

Erwin tried to pick up on the sounds and then recognised them. “Ah, no, it’s Portuguese,” he said, “yeah, from Portugal. I’m more familiar with the Brazilian variation from the time I spent training in Brazil.”

It was a woman’s voice, and she sounded longing, old and soulful. They left it there at a low volume.

“You understand it, then?”

Erwin shrugged. “Just a little, what I know is very basic, and this accent is difficult,” he said, “I met Portuguese fighters in Brazil,” he told him conversationally and listened closely to the music, “I think it’s saying ‘ _de quem eu gosto, nem às paredes confesso’_ ,” he said with a heavy accent that sounded nothing like the woman on the radio. Levi looked at him in disbelief.

Erwin shrugged, “I have a _gringo_ accent,” he said and snorted, “it means something like, uh, I’m not even telling the walls who I like,” he said.

Levi hummed, listening to the music. Well, that was something, wasn’t it? “All I know about Portugal is Tarzan Taborda,” he said, “and Port Wine.”

Erwin chortled. “Tarzan Taborda was a beast of a man,” Erwin said, “he also did stunt work,” he said, “you like wrestling, then?”

“Yeah,” Levi said, “not the WWE shit,” he made a face, “it’s cringy to watch those assholes full of steroids, leaning over like they want to be fucked from behind, waiting for the other guy to punch them,” he complained, “ridiculous.”

Erwin’s deep laughter reached his ears, and he looked at him, seeing the crinkles on the corners of his eyes. “What? It’s true. What are you laughing at?”

“I know it’s true, it’s just for entertainment. It’s got its appeal, I guess,” he said and chuckled, “it’s the way you said they were bending over to get fucked from behind,” Erwin said and was still laughing as they finally arrived at their destination. The amusement park, at 3 in the afternoon.

Levi was annoyed again.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” Levi complained, walking alongside him, and shoving his free hand down his pocket when Erwin reached his hand with a smile. He held it, feeling his face warm up. “This is a kids’ date. I’m pushing 30 and you’re 33. Fucking embarrassing shit, this.”

“What? And there’s an age to do fun things?” Erwin asked, walking into the park, “I’m stoked to try the rollercoaster,” he pointed. It was huge, “looks like fun.”

They walked among the people, and nobody bothered them. While they were wildly popular in their world, it was still a niche world when you looked at it. Boxing wasn’t as popular as it had been in the past, and while they had hardcore fans, they shouldn’t be out there on a Sunday afternoon.

That day they just looked like a couple holding hands, and they were practically unknown. Levi didn’t like it when people stared, though, and whenever he caught someone staring, he glared back and tightened the grip on Erwin’s hand and around his knife’s handle.

“Why the fuck do they have to stare?”

“Beats me,” Erwin said, untangling his hand from his and getting a waffle from a stand with a bright blue awning, “do you want one?”

Levi made a face and glared at the vendor. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. Erwin asked for two and they ate them on the way to the rollercoaster. He glared at Erwin when he took a picture of him eating his waffle without warning, “tell me when you’re going to do that.”

“It looks less forced like this,” Erwin chuckled, pocketing his phone again and biting into his waffle, “by now everyone knows you hate photos.”

“I fucking do, photos are meant to be memories, not random shit like the day I ate a damn waffle,” Levi complained and then huffed. Why couldn’t he control his aggravation? Maybe a kids’ date was what he deserved for being so out of touch with his own emotions. “Why did you want to come here anyway?” he asked, voice calmer.

“The rollercoaster,” Erwin repeated and pointed, “maybe the scary house, too,” he pointed at it. That one looked goofy. It had poorly painted, cross-eyed monsters at the front and emitted tinny scary sounds that weren’t scary at all, “I always find them funny. The scariest thing about them is whether they used lead paint on the monsters.”

Levi snorted and finished his waffle, binning the wrapping. “Don’t put that shit in your pocket, idiot, give it here,” he said when he saw Erwin crumple his wrapping and go for his pocket. Erwin blinked and gave him his rubbish, “the bin’s right there.”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Erwin said and chuckled, “let’s go get tickets,” he pointed at the rollercoaster’s tickets booth. He paid extra for their picture to be taken and developed there.

“Where’s the camera?” Levi asked the teenager who sold them the tickets.

“Um, somewhere in the big dive,” he gestured vaguely, “there’s a sign up there warning you to smile and stuff, you can’t miss it if your eyes are open,” he told them, “you get three shots.”

“Three shots?” Erwin asked.

“Yeah, it goes around three times,” the kid told them, “that’s why I asked you if you have heart conditions. Though,” he looked at him, a little awkward, “I know who you are.”

“Oh,” Erwin smiled.

“Can I get an autograph?”

“Sure,” Erwin said, and the kid scurried to get a pen and paper and signing it for Steve, the kid’s name.

“You’ll be fighting for the world title at the amateur world championship, won’t you?” he asked Levi who nodded, his arms crossed. He wasn’t famous enough to get people asking for his autograph and that was honestly great, “I saw you on a stream, you’re amazing,” the kid said. There wasn’t a line behind them. That rollercoaster was only for the strong of heart and stomach, “I wish I could fight, too,” he smiled a little. Levi was going to ask what was stopping him when he saw it. Erwin had already seen it. The kid was in a wheelchair.

“You do know that wheelchair boxing is a thing, don’t you? And it’s fucking great to watch, too,” Levi said, glowering at him, “Nothing is stopping you but yourself. It’s easy for me to say, yeah, I know,” he said, “but if you’re a fighter, you can do anything,” Levi told him and saw his lower lip tremble, “nice chat. Let’s go,” he said to Erwin, who smiled at the kid and bumped his fist with his.

“I’m sure he’ll look into it,” Erwin said as they climbed the stairs to get on the cart. There weren’t many people there and some of them looked terrified, “I wouldn’t have said it better than you did.”

“I was told the same thing once,” Levi muttered, as they got strapped in the cart. Erwin was curious but didn’t pry.

The countdown started, and they held onto the bar when the cart immediately sped up and up the metal hill.

* * *

**V. Those memories and blooming trust**

* * *

Erwin said he’d post the third photo they’d gotten on the rollercoaster where they were both looking straight at the camera without smiling. It was the funniest, Erwin said, because the guys behind them were both passed out. Nothing was funnier than the scary house, though. It was as underwhelming as Erwin had said it’d be, and Levi was bored with it and getting dizzy from the heavy smell of paint and the flashing lights. That’s why he was caught by a goofy-looking zombie jumping from behind a corner and yelling at them. Levi punched its head off and it bounced off the walls, flickering and fuzzing sadly and stopping with a sad little thud by Erwin’s feet. It set off an alarm.

Erwin was still laughing when the security guards arrived and saw them standing there with the headless zombie. They paid for the damage, but Levi wasn’t happy. Especially not when Erwin asked if they could take the head.

The goofy zombie head– _the war trophy_ –was now in the trunk of the Cadillac. Erwin was still having random fits of chuckles while backing the car out of the parking place.

“I’m gonna hit you if you don’t stop laughing at me,” Levi complained and huffed, rolling down the window to get the chilly evening wind to cool his head.

“I’m not laughing at you. It was your perfect stance that got me. Let’s hope you don’t behead anyone on the ring.”

“When has that ever happened?” Levi grumbled, looking at him, “Someone getting beheaded from a punch in the face?”

“This is your first season as a boxer,” Erwin said and grinned, “Ask me in a few months.”

Levi scoffed and shook his head. “Shut up, jerk.”

“Was it fun, though?”

“No, the guards were assholes,” Levi said, frowning.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean, overall,” Erwin asked, “was it worth coming out here with me?”

Levi was quiet and then sighed, rolling up the window. “Yeah, it was,” he said, “can we train a bit when we get back though?” he asked.

“Sounds perfect to me,” Erwin said with a smile, “too stressed?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t behead me, though,” Erwin teased, and Levi groaned.

* * *

Sparring was a sure way to unwind when done in the right context. They focused on boxing that day. Erwin was taller than Levi’s opponents would be but was the ideal practice partner. His hands were firm when he held the focus mitts and let Levi punch them as hard as he could. Erwin was still unrivalled in the clinch, but Levi was honing it slowly and getting to a point where he knew he could be put there and not lose his cool.

What happened that day was different. The memories that always came back brought someone else along, someone that was always there, whether he liked it or not, and he didn’t want to breakdown in front of Erwin again. Once was bad enough.

“Stop,” he asked, and Erwin did, looking at him, worried, “no, it’s fine, it’s something else,” he said, breathing deeply, “let’s stop for the day, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Erwin nodded, “good effort,” he said and smiled as he always did at the end of practice before they hit the showers.

That evening was loaded with unsaid words and concealed pasts. Not even the goofy zombie head, that was an eyesore next to Erwin’s houseplants, could make it better. Erwin showed the pictures they wanted to post to Hange first, and they gave them the green light to post them after laughing for 10 minutes about the zombie head incident.

They were fighters, and that was only a publicity stunt. Not for clout, but to protect Erwin’s dream. To protect _Erwin,_ full stop. But Levi’s mind went to hell whenever he had anything that resembled fun for fun’s sake. He’d been having way too much fun lately, with Erwin. And that day was worse than the other days.

“Levi, I know we’re not dating, and I don’t have the right to ask you personal questions,” Erwin finally broke the silence, speaking softly, “but I’m your coach, and I like to think I'm also your friend. I worry about you,” he said, “I need to know if you’re really okay.”

Levi looked at him, expressionless, feeling cold even though the house had central heating. “I think of you as a friend, too," he confessed, quiet, then, “I’m just,” he paused and gulped, covering his face, “fuck. I hate feeling like this,” he muttered, fighting the urge to go and hide in his room until it passed. But he stayed and looked at Erwin.

Erwin looked into his eyes, assessing him, and Levi looked away and sighed. “Do you know why I started fighting?” he asked.

Erwin didn’t respond right away. “No, I don’t,” he admitted.

“I saw you fight down there in the underground when I was 12,” Levi said, pursing his lips and biting his lower lip, “you were undefeatable and you were only four years older than me,” he said, voice tired, “I didn’t think I could be a fighter, like Kenny told me to be, but he took me there and I saw you,” he said, “and nobody beat you, nobody looked down on you, and you were respected and I wanted to be like that too,” he said and sighed, snorting, “it was a fucked up kid’s last resource,” he continued, “but I knew then that I could do anything if I just put my heart in it. And my heart isn’t the same as yours,” he said, clenching his fists, “but it’s also the heart of a fighter.”

Erwin listened in silence. When it was clear that Levi was done, he responded. “I didn’t know that,” he said, voice quiet, his eyes on him, “I’m happy to hear that I inspired you, even if I didn’t know you back then,” he said, “and you’re passing down that inspiration now.”

Levi knew he meant the disabled kid in the ticket’s booth because that was the reason he was so bare and vulnerable. “It was my uncle who told me that,” Levi told him and gulped, “I was badly hurt… he saved me and killed the men who hurt me,” he stopped to breathe, “then he told me that, if I was a fighter, I could do anything, he didn’t want me to end up on a noose like my mother,” he bit down hard and looked away, “Kenny is a monster, but he cared about my mother, and he cared about me, and he would have thrown his life away for Uri Reiss,” he clenched his fists, “I can’t imagine how much it hurts him when they accuse him of having killed Uri,” he sniffed, “but there’s no justice for the wicked, and he knows that.”

Erwin listened in silence until Levi was done sharing. “Thank you for the trust, Levi,” he said gently, “I imagine that it hurts you, too, when they accuse Kenny of doing that, despite him being what he is,” he said, “there’s not much I can say, other than that your heart is in the right place even after all that,” he said, then smiled, “I hope you have fun when we fight. I’d hate to be the only one having fun when you’re the most thrilling opponent I’ve had in years.”

Levi looked at him and was thankful that he just listened and didn’t push the subject and was talking about fighting again. That was one thing he liked about Erwin; he didn’t give him cliché speeches. “I hate to tell you this,” Levi said and sighed, smiling a little, “but I’m starting to have some fun too.”

“You don’t hate it at all, do you?” Erwin asked with a smile, getting up.

Levi made a face and sighed. “No, I really don’t,” he admitted, “add a couple of drops of brandy to mine.”

“Got it,” Erwin winked and left to get their evening tea. Levi leant onto the couch and felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. That was the first time he told that to anybody. And he was glad it was Erwin. Even if it was one-sided, if it had to be someone, let it be him.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Nem às paredes confesso" by Portuguese Fado singer Amália Rodrigues (with English subtitles)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wriV539T7jQ&ab_channel=DaniTheLittleMonster


	7. Adrenaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for explicit smut with bottom Erwin and top Levi on part III. The rest is just, by now, the normal amount of graphic descriptions of violence and blood. A reminder that the opponents that are real characters don't have any deep reasons to be the opponents. They're just welterweights.
> 
> This chapter is very long and when I tell you that I'm having a mental breakdown as I type this, I mean it. I love writing and I enjoyed writing this and that's probably why I get so stressed about sharing. Because I had fun. I project a lot when I'm writing, too. Ah. Fuck. Okay. In the end, it doesn't even matter. This chapter is long and has a lot going on. I won't be rereading this until tomorrow and I can only apologise for mistakes, typos, eaten words, and overall things that may look odder than they should be. I reread it four times, one of them with an AI but I know that's not enough. It's a long chapter because I planned it out like this. There are sections to break it down, help with the pacing. They give in to the mounting tension of fake dating, there is confusion and self-doubt, but they're adults.
> 
> I think the lack of music in this chapter falls in line with my feelings. But well, what can I say? Thank you for reading and commenting and for all your support and kindness so far. It really means the world to me, even with this dreadful brain of mine. Maybe you'll like this one as well. I hope you do.

* * *

**I. The warmth of fluorescent lights**

* * *

The prelims for the world competition would start in January, and they’d been working hard to breeze through them. Erwin was confident that Levi wouldn’t have issues getting through his opponents. He was an experienced fighter and now he was a disciplined one, too.

Their sparring sessions in the gym were as productive as they could be. Levi’s was faster than Erwin. Erwin commented that his boxing style looked a lot like Manny Pacquiao’s and Levi took that as a compliment. Pacquiao was one of the greatest welterweights of all time. Levi was hard to tire and trained until Erwin stopped him. His speed was outstanding. When neither got the upper hand after a sparring session with nothing but boxing, Erwin was so happy and proud that Levi almost punched him to make him knock it off. But he was smiling too, and he let himself bask in that joy for once. He was happy that Erwin was happy, and he was proud of himself, too.

The gym-goers kept coming in religiously, and none minded that their coaches were queer men. In fact, it made a lot of the women feel safer, too. It wasn’t homophobia in the sense that it was with toxic men; it was simply that men had hurt them and learning that the men who’d been teaching them to fight were lovers, put them at ease and helped them improve faster.

But Levi’s lingering gazes on Erwin’s back muscles and his chest when they were teaching their fighting classes were getting harder to avoid. He looked away when he noticed Erwin turning to look at him. And he didn’t see that Erwin was looking, too. They were as focused on training people as always, but their pictures were loaded when they posted them and Levi, who hated pictures, caught himself wanting to take them. Especially when they involved holding Erwin and putting his face near his neck or on his chest. The smell of his soft perfume and the warmth of his body were dangerously comfortable.

“Did you fall asleep?” Erwin asked softly when they sat on the couch, Levi sat sideways between Erwin’s legs, his arms around him and his head on his shoulder. The timer on the camera had gone off already. It’d been quite a bit since it had.

Levi hadn’t fallen asleep. But Erwin’s body was warm and big, and that perfume made him dizzy in the best possible way. He didn’t want to let go, but he mumbled incoherently, pretending that he’d indeed fallen asleep. His lips brushed against Erwin’s neck and he felt him gasp softly under the touch.

“Sorry,” Levi muttered and got off him, sitting on the couch beside him, his eyes closed, and his heart racing, “guess I dozed.”

“It’s fine,” Erwin said softly, getting his phone and focusing on getting the picture, “very warm, though. Your hair smells nice.”

“I wash it every day,” Levi groused, and Erwin chuckled as he typed the hashtags after adding a filter.

They’d already drank their tea and watched part of a film. Both were tired and Erwin, in his sleepy, yet aroused daze, said. “Let’s go to bed.”

Levi, just as tired, nodded and followed him without thinking. They stopped at the door to Erwin’s bedroom, and that’s when it hit them.

“Not my bedroom,” Levi muttered, cheeks heating up, seeing Erwin’s face turn bright red, and his hand go up to his eyes and rub them, “goodnight, Erwin.”

“Goodnight,” Erwin said, voice hoarse, watching Levi turn around and go to his room. Erwin sighed deeply and went to his bed alone. Hange texted him when he was already in bed, his mind a whirlwind of less than appropriate thoughts about his fake boyfriend.

_Hange: That one was just perfect! It looked like he was kissing your neck! Well done!_

_Erwin: Yeah, thanks, we’re learning. Going to sleep now. Exhausted. Night_

He put his phone on his bedside table and sighed deeply, feeling glad for the fact that he was indeed exhausted. The thoughts of Levi’s lips, the little smiles he gave him, and his beautiful body, and his eyes, and his warmth just wouldn’t leave his mind. And he didn’t know what to do about it. What if he scared him away with his feelings? It wasn’t just the thought of losing him; it was also the fact that it’d ruin his career as a boxer before it’d even started.

* * *

It was getting tougher and tougher to cope with it. It got to a point where fighting in the gym would leave them more flushed and winded than they should have been. Erwin brushed it off in that way of his and said it was the looming championship. The nerves were raising the adrenaline levels. Maybe so, but Levi didn’t think that adrenaline boners came from watching water drip down someone’s chin. He was just glad he hadn’t been caught.

Until he was.

They were in the basement with the machines doing heavy lifting after the students had left. Erwin was helping Levi bench-press with 50kg on each side, so a total of 100kg. Levi could lift that easily, in 10-rep sets, but of course, it wasn’t safe to do that without someone to get you out if you faltered. Erwin was urging him on. Both were sweating from the sparring they’d done before that. Erwin had done his pressing and Levi had helped him, too. Now Erwin was hovering over him, shimmering in sweat under the fluorescent lights of the basement.

Getting adrenaline boners wasn’t unheard of, but Levi had succeeded in all those months at not getting one while bench-pressing, where it’d be more noticeable.

He’d seen Erwin pop formidable boners while bench-pressing and not minding them. If anything, they strengthened him, which was wild. It didn’t embarrass that crazy man. The first time it happened, he apologised and said it wasn’t weird. Adrenaline did that. It was true, Levi knew that, but he wasn’t as carefree as Erwin.

That day, his eyes were fixed on Erwin’s as he lifted, and his gaze lingered on his broad, defined chest and his wide shoulders. That and the smell of his perfume mixed with the smell of his sweat, his glistening cheeks, and his shiny lips got him in trouble.

“Fuck,” he couldn’t lift it and cussed. Erwin pulled the bar off his chest and hooked it up with a loud clink. Levi quickly sat down and breathed heavily, “fuck.”

“That’s okay, Levi,” Erwin said, “you know it is.”

“No, it fucking isn’t,” Levi cussed, breathing hard and feeling way too warm.

“You know it is,” Erwin repeated, appeasing, and unbothered, “adrenaline does that. If it’s bothering you, we can stop, and you can go rub it off.”

But it hadn’t been just adrenaline, and Levi knew it painfully well. The light tone angered him. “Everything’s easy to you,” he spat and got up, wincing, “shit.”

“Go take care of it,” Erwin wasn’t smiling, “I mean it.”

But Levi didn’t want to do that. The thought of what he wanted to do involved the sweaty, half-naked man standing tall in front of him and it only made it worse. “I’m gonna take a cold shower.”

“Whatever works for you,” Erwin said and sighed. But he told a cold shower himself, and that night they didn’t chat over the film they watched together. _Casablanca._

* * *

**II. Tense men in tight designer pants**

* * *

Not two days later, a freezing day in early December, Hange showed up with a gig that had Levi wanting to bang his head against the wall. Erwin wasn’t too happy about it either, but just took it. It was a famous magazine, and Hange insisted that they’d reached out to them and almost begged.

It was a photoshoot for Vogue.

“Fucking _Vogue_?” Levi blurted out when they met up to discuss it, “Isn’t that a fashion magazine? What the hell do they want from us?”

“They want beautiful people and diversity, and you’ve been doing numbers on social media,” Hange grinned, “you’re the queer boxers who are helping the community fight stereotypes about what men who love men look like,” they said, then, “please? The girl who talked to me was almost crying. She fought tooth and nail to have this article about you. It means the world to her. She’s a boxing fan, too!”

Levi stared at them as Erwin sipped quietly on his latte. The coffee shop was full of chatting people, so it was easy to go unnoticed, but it was still dangerous. “But we’re not _really_ dating, Hange” he whispered through gritted teeth, “what the fuck is going to happen when we’re through with this?”

They didn’t see it coming when the cup Erwin was drinking from shattered in his hand and he quickly dropped the shards, his hand covered in coffee. Levi gasped and looked at him, seeing his weird look, staring at his palm. Levi’s heart sank, thinking that he’d hurt himself, and he grabbed his hand only to find all but a tiny nick on his thumb.

“What the hell?” Levi asked, pulling out a napkin from the holder and wrapping his finger in it. Erwin held it there.

“It’s just a little cut,” Erwin said and smiled, “guess I forgot my grip.”

“Be more careful with your damn hands,” Levi complained, “take your own advice.”

Hange and Moblit looked at those two in silence but didn’t comment. Moblit focused on finishing his coffee and Hange sighed deeply before getting their phone and texting the journalist that she’d have her article with those idiot boxers.

* * *

The shoot was even worse than Levi had expected. They had to wear some designer outfits and pose, but the photographer was an asshole and wouldn’t stop complaining. Levi was too stiff and looked too angry, and Erwin was too tall and wouldn’t fit in the frame with him. That it looked awkward when he leant over to touch foreheads with him. That he looked too tall beside Levi. That Levi looked awkward when Erwin held him in one arm. _That, and that, and this, and those. Put your hand there, no, not that one. Not like that, that’s wrong. You’re not listening. I can’t work like this. I hate models._

Levi was fuming, wanting to show them who exactly they were dealing with. But it was Erwin who put a stop to it.

Erwin had started the shoot full of patience, but they’d gotten at least 50 photos of them already and were still not happy with it. His concealed aggravation soothed Levi. They were both on the same boat there. Not even Hange trying to ease the mood, and the journalist almost crying, got it to work as the diva photographer wanted.

“ _Enough_ ,” Erwin finally said when they were wearing what they were told were Gucci pants and shoes. Erwin toed off his shoes. Levi hated the fucking shoes too and kicked them right off, ignoring the gasps, “what do you want from us? Neither of us is a model, we’re boxers,” he said, his booming voice thundering through the studio and finally shutting up those conceited assholes, “we’re only doing this because we were told you were aiming for diversity. But until this moment, all we’ve heard were complaints about our heights and our expressions,” he boomed, “this is the only warning I’m giving you,” he said, his voice calmer, but just as final, “we don’t need to be here. Either you respect us, or we’re out of here.”

Levi heaved a sigh worth a thousand. He looked up at Erwin, who wasn’t looking at him and had his jaw clenched tight. Levi had never seen him upset over something so trivial. It calmed him down, though, because he was also livid at the treatment they were getting there.

But they got an apology after that, and the photographer was beet red when the woman responsible for their article stomped in and started yelling at him. She seemed emboldened by Erwin’s rant. It turned out that the photos were good; it was just the photographer being an asshole.

“Would it be alright,” the photographer asked, now tame as a sheep, “if I asked you to sit on that red chair, Erwin on Levi’s lap, like you’re almost kissing? That’ll be the last one.”

“That would be alright, yes,” Erwin said, and Levi looked up at him, Erwin returned his look at last, and shrugged, “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“Me too,” Levi muttered and walked over to the chair, sitting down. They were both shirtless in those stupidly tight Gucci pants that were crushing their balls, so it was uncomfortable. Erwin winced when he spread his legs over his lap and put his arms around his neck.

“You okay?” Levi asked quietly, looking up at him. Erwin shook his head. Levi sighed.

“I’m going to hold your head,” Erwin whispered, “think of it as the clinch, but don’t punch me in the gut, I’m in enough pain already.”

“Don’t make me laugh in front of these people,” Levi muttered. But he was relieved when he saw Erwin smile for the first time in what he realised was too long. Even if he was smiling through the pain. Levi held Erwin’s sides, carefully palming his warm, defined muscles. Erwin touched the nape of Levi’s neck with the tips of his fingers and tipped his head back with his thumbs, as he leant back slightly and slouched over to put his face close to his. The tips of their noses touched, and they looked into each other’s eyes as the flashes of the camera hit them. Levi licked his lips unconsciously, feeling himself sweat under all that light, and saw Erwin’s Adam’s Apple bob when he licked his own lips and smiled ever so slightly.

“Wouldn’t it be bad if I lost balance and kissed you?” he whispered only to him. The warmth ghosted over Levi’s lips and he parted them, “And it’d be just as easy for you to knee me in the balls.”

Levi gripped his sides and looked into his eyes. His eyes stung. “I wouldn’t fucking do that,” he whispered under his breath, “don’t even fucking think I would.”

Erwin's nose was pressed against his and their lips were almost touching, but they didn’t. The pain was unbearable and all he wanted was to rip those pants to shreds.

What would Erwin’s mouth feel like?

 _This I bad,_ Levi thought as they were told they could get off each other, _this is fucking terrible._

* * *

The magazine issue would only come out the following month, but Hange bought them dinner for putting up with that nightmare. Expensive Sushi. It was a fancy restaurant that stood on top of a tall building, overseeing the entire town and with a privileged view to the sea, so far away, shining under the city lights.

“You did great!” Hange exclaimed, “You powered through that hell!”

Moblit gave them a raised fist of power. “It was painful to watch you move in those pants, but you did it,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, you could tell we were in pain?” Erwin asked.

Moblit nodded and made a face. “You were moving like someone was pinching your balls,” he said.

“Who the fuck wears those?” Levi complained, taking a big gulp of his beer, “Were they even our number?”

Hange groaned and ruffled their hair. “I gave them your measures, but I didn’t think they’d be so ridiculously tight and have no space for, you know,” they gestured in front of their crotch. Erwin chortled, “it made your asses look great, which I guess was their point. Though I preferred the shots in the suits,” they sighed. Levi snorted, “at least those were tailored thinking that the wearers would have dicks.”

“Yeah, the suits were nice,” Levi admitted, “they can shove those pants where the sun doesn’t shine, though. I still don’t want to believe how much they charge for those bloody things.”

“You looked pretty hot out there,” Hange said and grinned, trying to boost their moods, “that last shot on the chair was,” they did the ‘chef’s kiss’ gesture, “ _gourmet,_ ” they said and Moblit chuckled. Their food arrived, and they all thanked the waitress before continuing their conversation, “for a moment there, I thought you’d actually kiss.”

Levi scoffed. “In their wildest dreams we would,” he said, not hiding the anger.

Erwin’s smile faded a little as he got his food. “Yeah, we wouldn’t do that,” he said mildly, “there are limits to what you can do when you’re not actually dating.”

The silence that fell then was heavier than the rain that had started pouring outside the window.

But then Hange looked from one to the other and made a face. “Alright, I’m going to say it,” they started, “You’re not children. If you have feelings for each other, you should just confess them,” they said and grabbed their food as Moblit grabbed his in silence, under Erwin and Levi’s surprised looks, “yeah, you heard me. I’m not sure if my hunch is right, but you should know better, for your own good.”

Erwin sighed and grabbed a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. “I’ll remember that,” he said quietly, filling his mouth.

Levi glanced at him and followed his example. But he didn’t know how to use chopsticks, so he picked up the fork and stabbed the thing, stuffing it in his mouth and nodding vaguely. The rest of dinner was mostly quiet, save for Moblit and Hange chatting about what car they should get, since Mike was still not letting them off the hook for driving that classic Mercedes Benz like it was a 1998 Renault 5, the car he’d given them to drive around for the time being.

The drive home in Erwin’s white Cadillac was quiet, too. They didn’t have any music on, and the only sound was the rain against the canvas overhead.

* * *

**III. No regrets, but one**

* * *

It was the first time there was that kind of tension when they were by themselves in Erwin’s place, which had become Levi’s as well. The rain pelted hard against the glass windows, covered with the long, thick drapes. It’d started thundering, and the glare of lightning flashed through the gap between the drapes.

Erwin sighed and made a noise with his mouth as he padded into the living room and then huffed, turning around to face Levi who was stood there, staring at him. “Do we need to talk?” was what he asked.

“I don’t know,” Levi confessed, huffing and ruffling his hair, “is it about what Hange said?”

“Yes,” Erwin said, looking at him. They were stood in front of each other, about 4 feet away, “but not only,” he continued, “I’ll say it without leaving room for misunderstandings,” he said and looked at him in the eyes, “I want you, Levi.”

Erwin didn’t beat around the bush, and Levi wasn’t ready for the honesty. But he expected it. They were adults, and if Erwin was saying it like that, it meant it’d been bothering him. The thought of Erwin being less than happy because of him had him clenching his fists.

And Levi’s mind went haywire with all the intense and overwhelming jumbled-up feelings and thoughts.

“I thought you didn’t beat around the bush,” he said, raising his voice, the desire clouding his mind, “It wasn’t hard to tell I wanted you too.”

But he didn’t let Erwin reply and closed the distance between them. Levi held Erwin’s face and pulled it down to kiss him hard on the mouth.

It wasn’t soft or sweet; it was angry and a statement. Erwin’s surprise didn’t last more than a few seconds. He put his arms around Levi’s waist and gasped into his mouth, pulling him up to angle the kiss and slip him tongue. Levi moaned hoarsely and pushed him backwards in the bedroom’s direction, still kissing him, and Erwin let himself be led into the bedroom, dragging them both there. The bed creaked when Levi pushed him onto the footboard and he tripped backwards, falling gracelessly onto the mattress with all his weight and height. Levi yanked his sweater over his head and threw it aside before climbing onto him as he scuttled back and waited with pleading eyes for him to join him. Levi put his hands on his flushed cheeks and kissed him again, gentler this time, more careful. His mouth was warm, and his lips were soft and plush. Levi wanted to tell him how he felt without words, hoping he understood. Erwin palmed his sides and watched his eyes when he silently unbuttoned his button-down and pulled it open, sliding it over his shoulders and down his arms.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he muttered when he straddled his lap and put his hands on his neck again and kissed his lips. Erwin breathed in sharply when Levi licked his neck and went down, breathing in his scent, leaving soft kiss marks on his pale skin. Almost worshipping, he took his time touching his chest, caressing the flushed skin, nibbling his nipples, hearing him moan and gasp and relishing the sounds that slipped through his lips. Levi pressed kisses to Erwin’s stomach and unbuckled his pants, pulling them down to his knees along with his underwear. Erwin’s cock was huge. The musky smell of his arousal and the sight clouded Levi’s vision, and he licked his lips, not even thinking before holding it in his hand and hearing him moan, unashamed, his deep voice lewd and maddening. Levi licked it from the base to the tip, caressing his balls and sucking them. Erwin hissed and put both hands on his hair, gripping it. Levi had to hold his legs apart when he went for the deepthroat. He choked and felt tears come to his eyes when it hit the back of his throat.

“Fuck, so damn big,” he gasped, getting it out of his mouth with a wet pop, licking his lips, “don’t close your legs, dammit,” he rasped, looking up at him.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to do that,” Erwin’s said, voice hoarse, as he propped himself on his elbows, his face red and his eyes wet, “I can’t help it,” he smiled a little, “don’t worry about bruising my thighs holding them apart, though,” he said. Levi crawled up and kissed his lips again.

“We’re both fucking crazy for pain, aren’t we?” he asked, his lips lingering over his. Kissing Erwin’s smile was a feeling Levi didn’t know could make him feel so many things. Erwin held his face between his hands, and they kissed, wet, long, and hard. Levi pulled away, their lips shimmering, and he went down again. He wasn’t done yet.

“I want to suck you cock, even if it fucks up my throat,” Levi said, almost stubbornly, looking at him in the eyes and went in for the deepthroat again. Erwin moaned and threw his head back, feeling Levi’s hands grip his firm thighs to hold them apart.

Levi didn’t let Erwin come, and he let out a gasp mixed with a pained whimper. Levi helped him out of his pants and threw them away as well before taking off his own. Erwin lay on his back and reached his hand to his top drawer to pull out a condom and a bottle of lube.

“Lay on your side,” Levi commanded after Erwin helped him put on the condom and lube up.

Erwin obeyed, breathless, holding onto Levi’s neck as he did, “Don’t worry about hurting me,” he told him, voice hoarse and loaded.

“I don’t,” Levi hissed back in his ear and kissed his neck, leaving a mark. It’d bruise, too. Erwin turned to face him, and they kissed deeply as Levi led his cock into Erwin’s hole.

Erwin’s heart was beating as fast as his when he pressed his palm against his flushed chest and lay behind him, after dripping a generous amount of lube between his firm cheeks and pulling his leg up to allow for a better angle to let his cock slide into his hole after stretching it out with slightly shaking fingers. Erwin was tighter than he’d imagined and let out a throaty moan, grabbing a handful of the bedsheets, gripping it, clenching around him.

“Relax, _fuck_ , you’re so tight,” Levi whispered in his ear, kissing the spot between his ear and his neck. Erwin did, and Levi could move in the unbearable heat inside him. The bed creaked under them. He picked up a pace, watching Erwin’s mussed hair move with each thrust, his lips parted, moaning his name, his beautiful face red and his eyes watering, as he rubbed himself off and groaned, biting his lip, every time Levi’s cock hit his prostate. Their eyes met just as Levi knew they’d come, and he kissed him, deeply, messy, and warm, and they came. Erwin came first, tightening around Levi’s cock, so hard it almost hurt, and Levi came then, cussing and moaning his name as he bit into his neck.

It was a mess, Levi thought, a damn mess. His clearing up mind filled him with dread. What now?

They lay there, panting and sweating, almost like they’d been sparring. Levi didn’t let go of Erwin, even after getting out of him. The clarity of what they’d just done hit them after the high of a heavy orgasm.

Levi looked at Erwin’s face, his messy hair falling over his closed eyes as his breath evened. Levi's heart raced and his eyes stung. No, no, fuck, don’t cry, _don’t cry._ He bit down, but then he saw the shining blue eyes smile at him. “That was better than I imagined it’d be,” he whispered and pressed another kiss to Levi’s lips, which he returned, almost shy, feeling more naked than he was.

Levi gulped and nodded “That’s… yeah, that’s good,” he said quietly, untangling himself from him and lying on his back, covering his eyes with one shaking arm, “I just…” he was having trouble voicing his thoughts and his feelings “I was riled up and had been fucking horny over you for ages,” he muttered.

“So was I,” Erwin said softly, then, “it’ll hurt to think you regret it, though.”

“I don’t,” Levi said, voice small, looking at him and shaking his head, “I don’t regret it at all, Erwin.”

Erwin smiled and sat up, sighing. He sat there in silence for a moment that felt like an eternity. “Clean up, maybe fresh bedsheets,” he said at last, “I made a mess and need to wipe myself down.”

Levi got up too after pulling off the condom and tying it up. “I’ll change the sheets for you,” he said, watching Erwin get up with wobbly legs and took in the view of that beautiful man naked, sweaty, covered in kiss marks, smiling down at him, “do you know how beautiful you are, Levi?”

Levi was caught off guard by having his thoughts echoed back to him, but _about_ him. His words had abandoned him, and he stared at him.

“No need to answer that, I’ll return in a bit,” Erwin smiled and grabbed some fresh pyjamas and underwear from his chest of drawers.

Levi watched him walk into his en-suite and close the door behind him. His lower lip trembled, and he bit it hard as he walked out to go get fresh sheets from the laundry room, dropping the used condom in the bin. He changed into pyjamas as well and freshened up a bit, throwing cold water at his face and gripping the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The fear of what he felt for Erwin overwhelmed him and he was shaking. But he went back to Erwin’s room. Erwin was already there, waiting for him. Levi didn’t let him help him with the sheets.

“Still on that,” Erwin chuckled and lay down under his bedding when he was done and stood there, still as a statue, “I won’t make you sleep with me,” Erwin said softly, looking up at him, “but I’d be happy if you did,” he said, smiling, “come here,” he said patting the empty spot beside him.

Levi knew it was dangerous, but he lay beside him, shuffling closer to him. The fear melted slowly as his tired mind let itself soak in the warmth of Erwin’s chest when he pulled him against him and held him. Levi gripped the front of his pyjamas sweater and breathed in. The safety he felt in his arms wasn’t something he had words for.

“I don’t know what’s going through your mind,” Erwin’s deep voice sounded deeper when he had his face against his chest, “but I hope that if anything, this doesn’t affect our training,” Erwin said, and Levi shook his head.

“It won’t,” he promised, voice quiet, “cool head.”

“Cool head,” Erwin repeated, smiling, his arms around Levi’s smaller body, holding him gently, “this doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Levi didn’t respond and nodded instead. They fell quiet, and he heard Erwin’s breathing even out but stayed awake a bit longer, his messed-up brain not letting him rest.

Erwin was holding him so tenderly, he felt like fucking crying. Nobody had ever held him like that. But that was Erwin. He had a hammer-like fist, but his heart was pure and gentle. And Levi’s brain didn’t let him think that their feelings could be the same. Because he didn’t deserve to have his feelings returned by a man like Erwin. And Levi had never meant to fall in love, but it was too late now. It was too damn late.

* * *

The truth, though, was that they meant it. It didn’t affect their training at all. What it affected was the quality of their ‘suggestive’ pictures. Levi was wary, but Erwin didn’t bring it up again. But it was a bit of a problem. Or it would be, later. The first selfie Erwin posted was met with great enthusiasm because the kiss marks were visible on his neck and he didn’t bother hiding them. Hange didn’t ask where he’d gotten those marks, which was nice of them. Erwin wasn’t up for talking about it, either. Levi didn’t reject his touches, but he felt him tense whenever they weren’t training. And it hurt, but Erwin didn’t let it show.

He’d fallen for Levi the way he was, and Levi had opened up about his past to him. Of course, he didn’t know if their feelings were truly mutual–sex and love aren’t the same thing after all–but he respected him and wanted anything but to pressure him. So, he let it be and acted as he normally did. It’d be alright. For the time being, anyway.

* * *

Christmas and New Year were alright, despite everything. They spent the holidays with their friends and exchanged gifts. Erwin got Levi a Rolex watch, which annoyed him a lot because that was too expensive. Erwin told him it was for him to remember when to stop being so grouchy and that it was also his birthday, so it had to be an extra good gift. But then Levi gave him his gift and Erwin laughed, because who was he to talk when he’d gifted him a wildly expensive white cashmere turtleneck from Ralph Lauren.

“I didn’t know what to get you,” Levi complained, then, “and you look good in turtlenecks,” he muttered as they exchanged presents with everyone around. Nile and his family didn’t know they weren’t really dating, and neither did Mike, so they had to keep the ruse up even then. It was tough. Especially during New Year when you’re supposed to kiss someone at midnight.

“You don’t have to kiss me, Levi,” Erwin whispered, the hurt showing a little. They were both drunk. Nile’s house had a large deck that let them see the fireworks in the distance. Hange and Moblit were wasted and had been making out on the floor of the deck for at least 10 minutes. They had a fleece throw under them. It was nice and cosy.

Levi hated the tone in Erwin’s voice. _Melancholy._ He didn’t think twice before sitting sideways on Erwin’s lap and holding him around the neck.

“I don’t,” Levi muttered, voice drawly, as the clock hit midnight and everyone kissed their partners, “but I want to,” he whispered, “please?”

Erwin’s smile reflected on Levi’s lips when he pressed his mouth against his, softly at first, feeling the sweet taste of eggnog in his lips and deepening it. Erwin held his waist, and they kissed, their eyes closed, missing the fireworks in the sky but not the ones in their hearts.

* * *

**IV. The assholes on the train who got taught a lesson and the prelim fights**

* * *

Aside from their boxing fans, they’d attracted quite many fans of their relationship. And those were the people who noticed the mounting tension between them in the most recent pictures. It slipped their mind completely, though. The first fights of the prelim were on the second week of January, and that was all they had on their minds.

Levi took a three-day break from training to let his muscles rest and heal, and on the day of the tournament, they took the train. It got rid of the parking problems they might have had if they’d taken the car or the motorbike. It’d be happening in the big city in a proper venue, with an audience and official coverage. Levi wasn’t nervous, but he was tense.

“This is important, but don’t fret, you’ll do great,” Erwin told him, smiling, holding onto the handle overhead and his duffle bag, “you’ve got both the offence and the defence down, you’ll get them good.”

Erwin nodded, holding onto one of the poles. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered.

Then he saw Erwin scrunch his nose and look around. Two guys were smoking there when it was explicitly forbidden to do so on the train. One of them was blonde and had a beard, and the other had long brown hair.

Erwin hated the smell of smoke. That was the first thing Levi had learnt about him all those months ago. And Levi didn’t like it when Erwin was upset.

“Hey,” Levi called, and Erwin tried to stop him, seeing that these guys were obviously assholes playing tough.

“Levi, don’t…” he tried, but it was too late.

Levi pinched his nose and stared at the guys’ backs. “Don’t smoke around us,” he said and saw them turn slightly, not minding him, “did you miss the sign saying ‘non-smokers’?”

The guys turned around then, and he saw the blonde one looking down on him. The other one glared too, clearly not remembering him from the night he’d backhand slapped him at docks because he was drunk and driving. They looked down on Levi, ignoring Erwin.

“What was that shorty?” the blonde guy scorned, blowing smoke in his face, “Don’t like the smell?” he said and Levi saw a faint flash of recognition in that brat’s face but he was already readying his fists before the blonde asshole with the glasses and the stupid beard sealed their fate, “Don’t breathe, then,” he scorned and it was the last thing he said before taking an uppercut straight in the jaw. The cigarette fell and Levi stepped on it. That’s when the other guy recognised him, and the fear flashed in his eyes. Levi didn’t let the blonde guy fall. He held him by the collar of his shirt. Erwin stood back, smiling and appreciating the scene. Levi pasted his knee on the blonde guy’s gut, and he gasped, spitting and hunching over, breathless.

“Gross,” Levi grunted, and before the long-haired asshole could leg it, he pulled him by the back of his neck, “remember me now, bitch?”

The other guy was hunched over, unable to breathe, and Levi grabbed the brat who’d been pestering Reiner all those months ago. Levi kneed his side full force and punched him in the eye, a straight jab, and he screamed, clutching it. But Levi wasn’t done. He grabbed him by the ear and grabbed the other guy’s ear as well. He slammed their skulls together and watched them topple like the sacks of shit they were.

Erwin scoffed, seeing them knocked out. Some people had scurried back, but the truth was that everyone enjoyed watching a well-deserved ass-kicking. “Are they still alive?” Erwin asked with a disgusted smile.

“Unfortunately,” Levi spat.

They hopped off two stops later, and the guys sat down but stayed away, battered and bruised but knocked right off their high horse.

That little train exercise helped Levi release some tension and by the time they got to the venue, he was ready to go. Erwin had him lie down like he had on the day of that semi-official competition, rubbed Vaseline on his face, and massaged his muscles with the Thai oil that wasn’t illegal and was mighty useful.

“Your first opponent is a guy called Marlowe, he’s got experience,” Erwin told him when he sat down, “he’s a southpaw, you’ve met those. This one can give you trouble because he can use it, his coach is a nice guy, I’ve met him a couple of times,” he told him and Levi nodded, “his main weak point is his footwork. He’s not a slugger though, so be careful. Time your clinches, he won’t be expecting them from what I’ve seen, but he won’t get crazy like those amateurs,” he explained holding Levi’s thighs, “you’re the best fighter by a long shot,” Erwin smiled, “just don’t forget it’s all above the belt. No legs aside from footwork. That’s what’ll secure your victory. He’s taller, but you’re faster.”

Levi nodded and hopped off the stretcher. He shadowboxed a little, testing the wraps, which were tightened perfectly because Erwin had done it for him. Then he put on the gloves and they watched the first matches from the screen where they were being transmitted in real-time to thousands of people.

It was true, that was the real deal. The winners would be allowed at the amateur world boxing championship in April. Those guys weren’t total amateurs, though, and all had someone behind them. Levi just had Erwin, which put all eyes on him and opened a lot of doors that would otherwise be closed. It was like that in that world.

Some fighters were sluggers, others were strategists, most were quick, and a lot of them were more brawn than brain. It was a bit frustrating to fight a slugger, but Erwin kept telling him to keep his head cool, no matter what. Easier said than done.

Levi’s turn came, and he touched fists with Erwin, who was standing behind his corner as he climbed on the ring. Levi got rid of his robe and Erwin caught it.

He had to remember that this wasn’t MMA–it was boxing only. His opponent had a bowl-cut that looked like someone had shoved a bowl down his head and snipped around it. He didn’t look mean, though, and he avoided Levi’s eyes, fixing them on the floor and his midriff. Erwin hadn’t told him that, but it didn’t matter. Levi had met fighters like that in the underground. They weren’t cowards, but they weren’t there to hurt anyone. That was good.

“ON THE RED CORNER, FROM WINGS OF FREEDOM GYM, TRAINED BY ONE ERWIN ‘THE COMMANDER’ SMITH, WE HAVE LEVI ACKERMAN! THE UP-AND-COMING WELTERWEIGHT, AT 67KG AND 5’2!” the announcer bellowed, “AND FROM THE BLUE CORNER, FROM ‘WILD HORSES GYM’ TRAINED BY DOT PYXIS, WE HAVE MARLOWE FREUDENBERG, THE WELTERWEIGHT SOUTHPAW AT 67KG AND 5’8!”

Levi touched gloves with Marlowe and squared up. The narrator commented on his stance, but he barely heard it. Looking at his opponent. His footwork was as weak as Erwin had told him. He parried the first jab Marlowe threw at him and took the chance to hit him with a strong uppercut. He staggered a little but didn’t keel. Some blows connected. He tried to land more straight jabs with his dominant left hand, but Levi was much faster than he was. And once he stepped inside his reach, he started punching his chest, fast, the machine-gun style he’d been perfecting through the months and Marlowe gasped, toppling and gasping for air. They went back to their corners and the first round went to Levi. Once one man was on the ground, you went back to your corner. In boxing, you have a maximum of 12-rounds before the judges step in to decide if there was a winner or if it was a draw.

In the second round, Levi let Marlowe land a jab on his face and that allowed him to step inside again and corkscrew punch his stomach. Marlowe gasped. Levi put him in the clinch. Marlowe didn’t struggle, but he didn’t take the chance to breathe as he should and punched his sides instead. An amateur move. He was desperate and knew he’d lose. Levi let him go. Then punched him square in the jaw, the balance point, full force. Marlowe’s eyes fogged over and did the chicken dance. He fell onto his side. And it was over.

Erwin was grinning when he jumped off the ring and hugged him.

“Great fight,” he praised, “really great! I didn’t even have to say anything,” he said and handed him a towel that he rubbed on his sweaty skin, “they commented that your style resembles Pacquiao’s and mentioned your default Muay Thai stance,” Erwin said and smiled, “but that’s not illegal, either,” he winked, “especially not fighting like Pacquiao.”

Levi snorted, and they went to the back. He’d have one more fight that day and the following day, they would decide who would compete in April in the welterweight class.

The second fight would be tougher. Erwin massaged his body with the Thai oil again and warned him.

“This guy is about my height,” Erwin told him, “but he’s in your weight class, which puts him at a disadvantage,” he said, “but he’s got footwork and he’s good in the clinch, really good. Defence is his strongest point. And he’s got stamina,” Erwin said, looking him in the eye, “but so do you. Once you have him there, tire him out, he’s got the same breathing issues you had, he stops breathing,” Erwin said and Levi nodded, “but him being tall is good for you because you practised with me, you know how to put taller men in the clinch. Use your head and you shouldn’t have any issues. Time your clinches, and I don’t have to say this, but get inside and punch hard and fast,” Erwin instructed.

“Got it, coach,” he said, and Erwin smiled as he put his mouthpiece in his mouth for him.

“Go and win,” Erwin said, and they got out of there. Levi climbed on the ring through the vermillion ropes and threw his robe at Erwin again. He looked at his opponent. The guy was tall and young, fit but skinny. He had a long face and was rather handsome. One of those who looked down instead of in the eyes.

“ON THE RED CORNER, WE GOT LEVI ACKERMAN, FROM WINGS OF FREEDOM GYM, COACHED BY THE COMMANDER AT 67KG AND 5’2! AND ON THE BLUE CORNER, WE HAVE JEAN KIRSTEIN, FROM PARADIS GYM, COACHED BY KITZ WEILMAN!”

Jean’s coach looked stressed beyond all reason, and Levi found it kind of funny. Erwin had said Jean was dangerous, and he was right. Jean lunged at him and he parried his jabs. He was rash and left his head completely unprotected. Levi knew it was because of the height difference. Levi struck the side of his head with the back of his fist and saw him falter and scurry back. Levi dashed in and watched him protect his face, but not the sides of his head. Levi struck him with his left fist on the side of his head and then slammed his dominant fist against his chest. He staggered into the ropes. When Levi was close, Jean put him in the clinch, but he’d been expecting it and while he was there, he breathed, feeling Jean’s breath before untangling himself from it and going for a quick flurry of punches on his chest. Jean held up and went for a straight jab that connected with Levi’s cheek. Body blows connected everywhere, and Jean was sturdy for such a skinny guy, and he kept running back. Levi couldn’t get inside before the announcer called the draw of the first round. It frustrated Levi. Erwin hopped on the ring with a towel and some water that he gave him after pulling out his gloves. Levi pulled out his mouthpiece and drank the water, spitting some of it and huffing. Erwin patted off some of his sweat and put the towel around his own neck.

“Focus, Levi,” Erwin said firmly, leaning over to speak to him, and holding his wrapped wrists, Levi looked at him, “I told you he had footwork and stamina, he’ll frustrate you. I know you tire hard but get frustrated easily,” he said looking him in the eyes, Levi clucked his tongue, “don’t let it get to you. I’m in the corner, make sure you hear me when I tell you what to do,” he said, “Kitz was a decent fighter, but Jean can’t rely on that guy for instructions. If he sees him struggle, he’ll freak out,” he added, and Levi looked at him, “I mean it. You won’t go up to the 12 rounds. You can tire him out first. His offence isn’t good.”

“Okay,” Levi said and put the mouthpiece back in. Erwin helped him put his gloves on and patted his cheeks.

“You got this,” he said, and Levi nodded, glancing at his opponent who was having to deal with a coach that unlike Erwin looked worried. Poor guy, Levi thought, seeing him return to the middle. They touched gloves and round two was on.

Levi charged in first. Jean shuffled away from him, but he was on the ropes. In his panic, he put Levi in the clinch. A tight one. Big mistake. Levi swam his arms through the gaps and struck him with a powerful uppercut that threw him off balance.

“NO SWEEPING OR DUMPING!” Erwin yelled from the corner, “LIVER!”

 _Liver._ Right. Jean protected his face and chest, but he stupidly left the soft organs unprotected. Levi struck him hard in the liver area and he gasped, breathless. The pain was excruciating. Levi knew it from experience.

“NO KNEES, LEVI!” Erwin yelled, reading Levi’s adrenaline-filled mind. He struck him with another uppercut and only then wondered for a split-second why headgear wasn’t mandatory. He struck the side of Jean’s face and he fell, holding his side. It wasn’t KO, Levi had to go to his corner, as one did when the opponent hit the floor. Points for him.

“You’re doing great,” Erwin said and knelt in front of him, massaging his muscles to relax him, “I say one more round and he’s out,” Erwin said and Levi nodded. Erwin slapped his calf and got up, “you’ve got it. Just don’t forget this is boxing, I saw your knee move,” he said, and Levi glared up at him standing up, “don’t even think about it. You’ll be thrown out immediately. Go slower on this round. Make him feel the nerves, then get inside and knock him out.”

Levi nodded with a frown, and Erwin touched fists with his gloved ones before hopping off the ring.

Levi followed the instructions. He stood back, circling Jean, who was protecting his sides now and leaving the head open. That wasn’t a bad strategy, the liver had no protection no matter how much you trained, and the skull was tough. The skin over his liver was bruising. It ought to still be hurting like a bitch. Levi understood how this guy won fights. He won them by going the distance but not offensively; he tired out the opponent and then struck with what little offensive power he had and knocked them out. Levi was hard to take down, though. He finally lunged over, and Jean aimed for the clinch again, but Levi dodged it by crouching and corkscrew punched him on the liver side again. He heard him wince and groan, bending over and holding his side. That’s all Levi needed. He struck him in the jaw with all his might and watched him topple to the side. KO.

The announcer bellowed his name as the ref raised his fist. Levi jumped off the ring and hugged Erwin, who was beaming with pride. Levi didn’t say much aside from ‘thank you, Erwin’. They took a celebratory selfie and Levi was smiling a bit in it. That was a memory.

* * *

When they were at the train station, ready to go home and sleep, Erwin felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He grabbed it and looked at the sender.

“Reiner?” he asked, looking at Levi, who shrugged. Erwin opened the text and read,

Reiner: _hi, Erwin I was just wondering if you or Levi didn’t happen to beat up some guys on the train_

Erwin snorted, confused as to why he’d know that. “Odd,” he said. Levi looked at him and he showed him his phone. Levi snorted, “you know what this is about? How can he know?”

“One of the guys I beat up,” Levi started, “is Reiner’s shitty ex, the younger one with the stupid hair and those dumb tattoos. I shook him up a few months back when I was still working at the docks. Slapped him that time, as you do to a brat,” he said, “the piece of shit was drunk driving. Reiner was scared shitless.”

“Hm,” Erwin smiled and held his phone, typing his reply with a single finger. He always typed like that. Thick fingers.

Erwin: _It was Levi, and he said one of them is your ex. If he’s bothering you, you have two options. Either tell them Levi is dying to have another go, or you can have a go yourself_

Reiner: _got it_

“That’s a good answer,” Erwin admitted, smiling, “we did a good job on that kid, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Levi nodded, “confidence did magic on him. I hope he kicks that scraggly fuck’s ass, though,” Levi said, “it’s what he deserves,” he yawned, “will this train arrive or not?”

“Another 15 minutes,” Erwin said and sighed, “maybe we could take a taxi,” he snorted, “don’t know why we didn’t do that in the first place.”

“Because we’re morons,” Levi drawled and clucked his tongue, “let’s take a taxi.”

* * *

**V. A swollen eye, a kiss on the lips, and a shot of adrenaline**

* * *

The following day Levi established himself as someone who was there to win no matter what.

He didn’t have issues defeating his first opponent in 5 rounds. But the second one got him. He wasn’t a slugger, and he was taller. Famous for his powerful straight jabs, one-punch KOs, and for fouling a lot, seemingly by accident. Dirty boxing. Erwin had warned him about it, but it’d still happened. The dirty boxer struck Levi in the eye with his elbow. It looked like an accident. He got a foul warning but wasn’t thrown out. Erwin rushed to Levi when he saw the bleeding. The skin over his eye swelled so badly, he couldn’t see from it. He wasn’t knocked out, but he was livid, with blood trickling down his face. He sat in the corner with Erwin, who crouched in front of him and inspected his eye and gave him gauze to dry the bleeding.

“I’ll have to give you a shot,” Erwin said and got his bag, passing him an icepack that he had in a small cooling box. Levi pressed it against his eye, over the gauze, gritting his teeth, “they don’t usually have cutmen in prelims.”

“I want to keep fighting, that motherfucker elbowed me and didn’t get thrown out,” Levi said, pissed, holding the icepack to his eye, “an accident my fucking ass,” he was shaking in anger, “I don’t fucking care, I want to keep fighting, Erwin.”

“If you’re going there pissed like that, I won’t let you,” Erwin warned as he opened his bag and pulled out a small container and a syringe, “if you’re thinking I’ll let you go there all worked up, think again. I don’t give a fuck if it was an accident or not, probably wasn’t, but you’re almost there, don’t throw it all away,” he said sternly as he put the container and the syringe back and tipped Levi’s head back, making him face him, “are you going to go out there like an asshole with no brains?”

Levi gritted his teeth and shook his head.

“Good, keep holding that there,” Levi obeyed, and Erwin got the little glass container and the syringe again. He pulled the liquid from it and gave it a test squirt, “adrenaline hydrochloride,” he looked at him, “this is a last resource thing,” he said looking at him in his open eye, “can you promise me that you’ll keep your head cool out there?”

Levi gulped and knew he couldn’t promise him that. His hands were shaking, and he couldn’t believe he’d let himself be caught like that when he was so close to qualifying. He needed to focus on something else. All he wanted was to go there and beat the dirty motherfucker to a pulp, fists, knees, elbows, head. Everything he fucking knew. Erwin’s look was the worst. Levi could see that he knew he was lying about being calm, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint him and make him look like a fool for coaching a fucking brainless git.

“Kiss me,” Levi asked, looking at him from the eye he could see from.

Erwin blinked, thrown off a bit. “What?”

“I asked you to kiss me,” Levi asked again, “I need something else to think about.”

It was an odd request, but Erwin didn’t question it. He cupped his cheek, covering their lips from the cameras and softly kissed his red, swollen lips. Neither closed their eyes. Levi returned the kiss and sure enough, his brain focused on it instead. Focused on making Erwin proud. Focused on how he felt about him. Those overwhelming feelings. He breathed heavily when Erwin pulled away, looking at him, eyes dark and assessing.

“Give me that shot,” Levi said at last, and Erwin nodded, holding his chin between his fingers and sticking it in the swollen skin. Levi winced, but it worked almost instantly. Levi could open his eye again. Erwin grabbed Vaseline and rubbed it over the cut and swollen skin. He helped him put his mouthpiece back in his mouth and Levi stood up. Erwin touched fists with him.

“Make me proud,” Erwin said and smiled, confident, “but more importantly, make _yourself_ proud.”

Levi nodded, his heart racing. Erwin jumped off the ring. The opponent hadn’t seen the kiss, but it shocked him to see Levi coming back with a cut eye but ready to go.

Levi wasn’t as angry anymore. He was focused and, in his mind, all he saw was Erwin being proud of him for fighting against his own emotions. He dodged all jabs, protecting his wounded eye, and then put the dirty boxer in the clinch. He struggled out of it, but not fast enough. Levi got inside of his reach and punched his chest repeatedly, quick and hard, not letting him do anything and finished with a jumping uppercut that sent him flying like a ragdoll, hit the ropes and fall on the floor. That was their 7th round and Levi had the most stamina. His opponent was out, and that was the most impressive fight of the day.

The ref raised Levi’s fist, and when he met Erwin’s eyes, he pointed at him, seeing him smile and point back.

* * *

**VI. Confessing feelings may be easy, but it’s hard to deal with them in the long run**

* * *

The following weeks were good training weeks, but their social media presence waned. Then they finally posted a picture together and the fans of their relationship started talking. Hange called them that evening.

“Explain,” they demanded.

“Explain what?”, Erwin asked, sipping on his tea. Levi groaned beside him.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Erwin Smith,” Hange said back, “don’t you play dumb with me, because you’re anything but!” they were fuming like never before, “Why the hell do you look like you’re both waiting to run off in the new picture?”

“The Vogue article was great, though, so why don’t we work with that?” Erwin deflected, “And I know I covered it, but we kissed on the ring just the other day.”

Hange groaned. “We can work with that, yes, but I’m asking you directly what the hell is going on,” they said and the anger wasn’t gone, “you kissed on New Year’s Eve, you kiss on the ring, and now you post that crap,” they said, “I thought you were actually dating and hadn’t mentioned it yet for whatever reason. Then you go and post a picture that looks like you’re having an argument,” they said, “are you really dating?”

Erwin sipped slowly on his tea and sniffed. “We’re not, and I don’t know what the problem is,” he said, evenly, “nobody in the boxing world gives a damn and the toxic bastards who used to hang around the gym aren’t back,” he said, “maybe it’s time we thought of breaking it up.”

Levi gripped his mug with both hands and looked at him.

“Erwin,” Hange called, their concealed anger not concealed at all, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again,” they said, “you’re not kids. And if you have feelings for each other, which you fucking do, you talk about them and sort them out,” there was huffing on the other end of the line, “Mobsy is upset too, see what you’ve done,” they said, “he’s rarely upset. This is how frustrating it is to watch you two dancing around each other like silly teens.”

“It’s not as easy as you think,” Erwin finally said and gripped his mug, “I imagine how frustrating it might be to you, but please understand that things aren’t as easy as you think,” he said firmly. Hange was quiet, “we’ll be careful with the posts. But if we announce the breakup, then we do,” he said simply, “it won’t undo any of the good it’s done for the community.”

Hange huffed. “Fine, fine, then,” they said, “whatever. Or whatever _my ass_ ,” they complained loudly, “I don’t want neither of you sad, so if I see you sad, I’m fighting both of you!”

Erwin chortled. “Okay, I’ll let you slug me,” he told them, “I’m hanging up, now.”

“Fine, tell Levi I said hi and think you’re both dumbasses!” Hange exclaimed and hung up.

Levi had heard it, so he didn’t have to tell him anything. His heart was pounding hard, and he gripped his mug, fearing that it’d shatter.

Erwin looked at him. “Do we need to talk about feelings?” he asked, not smiling, “I think Hange is right. We do.”

Levi gulped and sipped on his tea. “Go first, then,” he mumbled.

Erwin sighed and put his empty mug on the coaster. “I’ll be direct,” he said, “I respect you and your personal space, so I didn’t push it. But my feelings for you are real,” he said and clenched his hands over his thighs, “and they’re far from platonic,” he clarified. Levi closed his eyes, drinking his tea in small sips, “at first it was just infatuation because you excited me as a fighter and you’re my type of man,” he confessed, voice low but clear, “but I wanted to know you better. And when we started living together and started this fake relationship, going out to all those places, I fell for you as a person,” he said, “and I can’t fake that anymore. I can’t fake how much I love you and how much I care about you, Levi.”

Levi didn’t want to let his emotions get to him, but it was hard, and he wanted to flee, to cry alone in peace like a fucking child. His hands were trembling, and his heart felt like it’d come out of his mouth. He felt warm all over. “I’m a damn asshole,” was the first thing he managed to get out of his throat, “I’m… I don’t know how to handle this. I let my feelings and my dick think for me that night.”

“You’re not,” Erwin he said, and chuckled, looking at him, “I wasn’t thinking rationality either,” he said, “I told you first that I wanted you, I wouldn’t tell you to stop when I wanted you so badly, would I?”

Levi finished his tea and gripped the mug with shaking hands, and after a heavy moment of silence, he finally spoke. “It’s too much, Erwin, I didn’t want to feel anything,” he whispered but gritted his teeth, “my feelings for you are fucking overwhelming and I can’t deal with them,” he said putting the mug on the table, off the coaster, and covering his face, pressing his eyes with the heels of his shaking hands, “I want to make you happy, I want to be with you, I feel… I feel so damn happy when I’m with you,” his eyes welled up and he gritted his teeth, covering them with his palms, pushing the tears back, “but I don’t know how to be in a relationship. Especially not with someone as good as you. You deserve better than me.”

Erwin was silent a minute before responding. “That should be for me to decide,” he said, watching him, his heart racing. He didn’t touch him, though, “here’s the deal, then,” he said gently, “if you want time to think, I can give you as much time as you need. I’ll hold on to your confession,” he said, and Levi uncovered his red eyes and clenched his trembling hands, “we can keep pretending to be dating as we’ve been doing until you decide whether you want it to be real,” he smiled, “the choice is in your hands.”

Levi hated how relieved he felt hearing that, but he didn’t even think of declining the suggestion. “Fuck, alright,” he said quietly and leant back against the couch. He needed to get his mind off that fast before he started fucking crying for real, “what was the issue with the damn picture you posted, though?”

“Beats me,” Erwin said and chuckled, turning on the TV set and flicking through his film list, “Hange said we looked like we wanted to flee,” he said, “so let’s avoid that. Do you want to flee from me?” he asked and smiled.

Levi snorted and sighed, shaking his head. That was the last thing he wanted. “I’ll think of it as fighting,” he said, “and I won’t flee,” he opened his mouth, then closed it, but then sighed, “can you get us more tea? Maybe, uh, chamomile?”

Erwin nodded and got the mugs standing up. “You pick the film,” he said. Levi nodded and grabbed the remote with shaking fingers.

Levi picked that damn film – _Shall we Dance? –_ he’d never finished watching it that night. Erwin returned with mugs of steaming chamomile tea.

They watched the film in silence and sipped their calming tea.

“I’m thinking,” Erwin said softly, holding his warm mug, Levi glanced at him, holding the mug with both hands, “maybe it’s a silly thing, but I think that until you decide, we should keep touching each other out of the gym to the bare minimum,” he decided, and Levi made a face, “for one I may get a little carried away,” he explained and smiled, “and then it’ll help you think clearer about whether you miss my touches.”

Levi huffed and shrugged. “Fine, I guess you have a point,” he said. Erwin smiled and nodded, focusing on the film again. Levi was glad he held it all back in front of him. But he hated that he’d have to decide. Why was Erwin willing to wait for someone like him? They say love is blind, but they probably mistranslated something down the line, because love isn’t blind – love is just an old idiot.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @silverfurioso on Twitter. I'm better at talking there.


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